


We Stand Together!

by Satan In Purple (purple_satan)



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ephraim is a total disaster jock no surprise, Every version of Lyn is very tired, Fjorm deserves a break, Hector Eliwood and Ryoma are good dads, Multi, Ryoma is a good big brother too, Stalking, Valter being creepy, also someone please protecc lyon he's a good boy honestly, fire emblem heroes story spoilers obviously, grand hero battles, just pretend i got the timeline right i know i didn't, one-sided Alfonse x Kiran, one-sided Reinhardt x Kiran, one-sided Valter x Kiran, please someone tell ephraim and kiran they are in love those idiots, the fic no one wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_satan/pseuds/Satan%20In%20Purple
Summary: It's not easy making sure Hector and Ephraim don't go out and try to get killed in battle, but somebody's got to do it. Kiran isn't totally qualified for the task, but tries. Having Ryoma and Lyn there also helps.(aka. a collection of headcanons written into a fic about my FEH teams, and how they interact with Kiran and each other. Chapters to be added as I write them, and possibly prompts/requests filled if it works)





	1. Snow and Ash (Summoner x Alfonse)

**Author's Note:**

> this all began because an anon asked me if they could write fanfic about my team HCs and then I started thinking about it. turned out a lot angstier than i expected for [such lighthearted HC's...](https://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com/post/173793208952/i-love-when-people-write-or-draw-their-headcanons)
> 
> this is maybe _sort of_ but not exactly that fic. oops.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning from Nifl, Kiran questions her resolve during a meeting of the Order of Heroes. Alfonse isn't having it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huu~ and so it begins with angst!

_How long have you been here? How long has the fight been going on? How many changing faces have you seen since being summoned to Askr? How long has it been since you had a restful night of sleep or a decent bath_ —

“Summoner?”

You blink as a gloved hand waves in front of your face. The room swims back into view and all eyes around the table are on you.

Daydreams have no place in the war room, but here you are zoning out thinking about beds and baths, modern conveniences you miss from your world dearly. You’d like to blame it on the previous grueling night of pouring over maps of the terrain and enemies you’ll face in the upcoming battles to take Muspell, but it's more selfishness than anything else you’re not even listening to the strategy you helped create the night before.

“Sorry Alfonse, I—”

You look at the weary, yet determined eyes of the others in the room all on you, and your excuses dies in your throat immediately.

_Selfish. I’m being selfish._

Ryoma clears his throat, then goes back to outlining their plan of attack. Sharena and Anna are nodding in approval, but its lacking the bubbly energy the pair usually have. The normally placid Fjorm has her lips in a tight line upon hearing Surtr’s name, and Ryoma gently places a hand on her shoulder before continuing. Your eyes meet Ephraim’s across the table and even he looks tired, despite flashing you a small grin and going back to paying attention.

All the other occupants of the room are quiet. Only the creaking of leather or armor as people shift foot to foot, listening to the Hoshidan intently. Suddenly the room feels very small and very cold, despite the amount of occupants.

Ever since coming back from Nifl things have changed. The atmosphere of the war room of the Order of Heroes has taken a tense turn you don’t recall being there previously as you’ve all been redoubling your efforts since Gunnthrá’s death to Surtr. Everyone has been fighting and collecting orbs to summon more allies for Askr and Nifl and you know it’s taking its toll on morale as a whole.

Alfonse gives you another concerned look as he sees your eyes on Fjorm. The ice princess’ health continues to further deteriorate despite both Clarine and Priscilla’s attention and efforts. You often find the blonde woman gazing quietly out the windows of the castle, their panes edged in frost. 

You feel especially guilty for her loss. The apologies you want to say won’t come out of your throat the right way so they continue to be left unsaid.

While you had never met the woman before that fateful day, you knew how much Fjorm cared for her siblings and felt especially disheartened you could not call Gunnthrá back from the void. Cursing heavily after many failed attempts to summon her, you went so far as to throw Breidablik on the ground in frustration after seeing Fjorm’s blank face at the last of your orbs disappearing. The failure stung in ways many had not previously, as though the entire morale of the Order of Heroes was resting on you to bring her back and you couldn’t do this one simple task, while everyone else was doing their best. Pounding your fists on the pedestal until you cried and your knuckles bled, Ryoma picked you up easily and carried you back to the castle after that summoning session.

Perhaps you weren’t the fated hero they believed you to be. But even so, you couldn’t give up. Not with everyone else holding on and looking to you for support.

After the meeting, you wait for the room to clear, frowning at the strategy map laid out before you and the changes made during the discussion you only heard snatches of.

“You know, when you first got here, I did advise you not to get close to the Heroes,” Alfonse says quietly, laying a hand on your arm. “I know you despair over our losses but this is why. We are at war. As horrible as it sounds, we are fortunate we have made it this far with so few.”

“Well I don’t feel very fucking fortunate,” you sigh, mind going back to that terrible day in Nifl.

“I know.”

“Sure.”

“I was there, Kiran. I saw Gunnthrá die too.”

“The more you have to lose, the worse it hurts when you do,” the Askran prince tells you, pushing back the hood of your cloak to look you in the eyes. “You treat us all as not just allies, but friends. Perhaps you shouldn’t.”

“I—” you choke out, barely holding back the sobs threatening to spill out of you.

All the decisions you’ve had to make, the friends you’ve made and have had to leave behind. It's not just about Gunnthrá’s death, but the fact mortality _does_ still exist here, though you’ve somehow defied it time and time again with charms and spells. How many times have Hector and Ephraim came back beaten and bloodied, barely alive? You could lead anyone to their death next if you’re not careful. And though you’re pretty sure for the summoned heroes it just means they return to their world, you aren’t certain it isn’t actually death. The thought of them dying because of you, _for you_ , breaks your heart.

Alfonse pulls you into a hug as you hold your phone in your hand, gripping it tightly as you stare at the words _Grand Hero Battles_ and _Chapter 9: Hellfire_ on the screen.

“It won’t get easier, will it?” You ask, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“No,” he sighs, running his fingers through your brown hair. “No, it won’t.”

“I don’t know if I can do this. I’m just a girl, not a hero. I wasn’t meant to lead a war.”

With Alfonse you don’t have to pretend that everything is going to be okay. This is his kingdom you are fighting for and he knows. He has more to lose than anyone one else here, except maybe Fjorm.

“You can, Kiran. You can and you will.”

For once, the lie is comforting.

You shatter quietly, as he holds you in his arms, and for once since coming to Askr you allow yourself to be comforted for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, the author: i love all the new charas, fjorm alfonse sharena *looks at name smudged on hand* goodra—wait, _isn't that a pokemon?_
> 
> (just leT ME SUMMON GUNNTHRA INTSYS)
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	2. Day of Devotion (Love Abounds, Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Sharena spend some girl time with Kiran talking about _boys_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this happened before Chapter 7, but uh... give me some liberties with the timeline I wanted something lighthearted after Gunnthra angst and before Lyon angst ok??? ;)

Morale begins improving as the ominous thought of going back up against Surtr and invading Muspell disappears for festivities and smaller skirmishes easily won. The Day of Devotion is coming up around the corner and with it, new allies are announced that can join the fray, leading to your own excitement. But with it also comes the fact you are also showered with one too many gifts from thankful heroes hoping to catch your eye. Even with your spirits lightened as you dodge all the admirers, lately you’ve tended to hole up in your room with the mountain of sweets, sharing them with Anna and Sharena.

“Has anyone caught your eye yet, Kiran?” Anna asks casually, elbowing you as you read another note attached to chocolates before handing them to Sharena. “A certain prince perhaps?”

You cough, muttering as your cheeks redden and you look down. It's no secret that Prince Alfonse’s icy demeanor to the heroes doesn’t apply to you, and for that reason rumors have been spreading like wildfire of his affection.

To be fair to him, the gifts on the table are hardly just from him. A majority are from the girls (mostly Tharja) getting into the festive spirit and sending you small treats, along with the men. And despite only having platonic feelings for you, you know there’s one or two from Hector and Ryoma in the pile as well.

“Now, let’s not put the summoner on the spot,” Sharena replies. “We’re all aware of my brother’s _fondness_ for her, but she’s also quite close to Prince Ephraim, no?” She turns over a few of the notes, peering at the names and writing. “Though I don’t see anything here from him.”

“That’s because he’s a complete dolt when it comes to romance,” Anna replies. “He probably thinks challenging Kiran to a sparring match is a date or buying her a fancy lance is a good gift.”

Shoving a truffle in your mouth quickly so you can’t reply, you nearly choke.

If this is what girl talk is in Askr, its absolutely mortifying and why you scarcely engaged in it in your own world. Too tomboyish for things like shopping and talking about boys, you normally devoted your energies to talking about the latest video games and your hobbies when talking to friends. You weren't super popular or dated a lot, so suddenly becoming the object of affection of so many men (and more than a few women) has left your head spinning, your introversion kicking into high gear.

“So... who will you chose to spend the day with, dear summoner?” They both ask as you still cough, hoping pieces of chocolate aren’t still lodged in your throat.

You rack your brain for an excuse not to say any names in particular.

“Maybe I haven’t met them yet,” you reply cautiously, taking a long drink and clearing your throat. “I still need to summon more heroes before the Day of Devotion.”

“But if you  _had_ to,” Sharena continues mischievously, popping a chocolate in her mouth and handing the box back to you, half-empty. “It’s nothing to agonize over, Kiran. It’ll stay our little secret,” she adds with a wink.

“Um… Corrin? Laslow? Or maybe just you two since you’re _both single too. ”_

“Ouch!” Anna replies, shoving your shoulder with hers amicably. “Oi, you don’t need to point it out we don't have as many admirers as you!”

Sharena, meanwhile, has a thoughtful look on her face. 

“Hmmmm, I don’t know about Corrin but that Laslow, he sure is a charmer! Good choice!”

“That’s someone I think we all can agree on!” Anna declares, raising her glass in the air to toast, before dissolving into a fit of giggles with Sharena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ephraim: reader, what's a valentine's day? _*alarm*_ you mean i was supposed to get kiran something and no one told me?!?!? _*dashes off even quicker than he does into battle*_
> 
> (i'll have you know, anna, ephraim is a great boyfriend. he just needs... direction sometimes OK DONT INSULT HIM LIKE THAT)
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	3. Seeing Double (Love Abounds, Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran summons just before the Day of Devotion only to see some familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, as Kiran: Summoning under the Love Abounds banner has made things strange for my team comps haha~

Days later you remember the conversation with the girls and decide it _is_ finally time to summon more allies. You bring your usual team of Hector, Ephraim, Lyn with you to the summoning altar, as well as your newest hero, Eliwood. You’re happy the redhead is easily integrating with everyone, despite mentioning his son being absent from Askr. Hector and Lyn have been quite happy to have him around, and being a lancer, he’s gotten along famously and become fast friends with Ephraim as well.

“So you fire this Breidablik and heroes from many worlds appear?” Eliwood asks, eying the sacred relic and orbs in your hand.

“That’s the gist of it.”

“And you don’t know who will arrive?”

You shrug. “I can try and concentrate on someone, but it’s no guarantee.”

“I see,” Eliwood makes a thoughtful face. “Might I hope you will bring Roy here then?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, summoner.”

Despite his father being present and hopefully helping draw things in your favor, Roy manages to defy your concentrating on him and you begin to get frustrated. Smacking Breidablik a few times, you finally make a summon but are surprised when you end up with not him but another version of Lyn in front of you, this time holding a blue tome.

"I'm Lyn. I was told this outfit is appropriate for a festival of love, but..." She trails off, holding her skirt.

"It looks awfully difficult to move around in," your Lyn scoffs. "To think I would wear something like that!"

"Hey! It's not like I'm used to formal wear like this!" She replies indignantly as the two begin bickering. "It's just for the festival!"

Ephraim shoots you a nervous look. He'll gladly face off against anyone on a battlefield but Lyn with a bow is scary enough, her brave bow arrows able to pierce even the thickest of armor in rapid succession. Thinking of the same woman with armor and wielding magic instead, the blue tome in her hand is  _downright terrifying_.

"I think it'll be alright," Eliwood says placatingly. "Its a shock to meet—well, _you,_ at first—but then the curiosity kicks in. Or at least it did for me." 

Eventually, the two Lyns calm down and you can concentrate again. You count your orbs and try summoning for Roy again. Most don't pan out but finally, something does. Even though it's not who you hoped for, you're delighted to see Hector in even better spirits than usual when you fire Breidablik and his daughter, Lilina, comes through the summoning portal.

“Dad!” She squeals upon seeing her father, bee-lining over to him and attempting to hug him despite the armor.

You've never seen the man drop Armads so quickly, as he picks his daughter up and twirls her around as though she weighs nothing. Something tightens in your chest seeing family members reunited and you hope you get to see Ephraim and Eliwood one day do the same.

“My beautiful daughter! How you’ve grown!”

“You’re embarrassing me!” The blue haired woman replies, blushing as Hector sets her down, then turns to you.

“Sorry I didn’t say hi earlier. My name's Lilina! I was celebrating a festival when I suddenly appeared here.”

“Kiran. It’s nice to meet you, Lilina. I’m sure your father will get you up to speed if you’d rather him tell you than I.”

She nods and you feel the last few orbs in your hand. Eliwood shoots you a hopeful look before turning back to Hector and Lilina with a gentle smile. Placing the orbs on the summoning pedestal you think of everything the man has told you of his son and try to imagine the young marquess and as many details as you can muster. His spiky red hair, the blue and white armor of Pherae. The binding blade he carries by his side.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your fingers and fire Breidablik.

The pedestal quakes and you feel hopeful from its response to your pleas, but as everything settles, the misty outline of the hero in front of you is far too large for it to be the young man Eliwood told you of. In fact, it's quite large indeed, and strangely familiar shaped with that very large—

“I'm Hector. Huh? You didn't summon me here hoping for a gift, did you?”

_Another Hector?!?!_

He calls out cheerfully, but the room is deathly quiet. Even your Hector looks perplexed at seeing himself in front of him with such strange clothing matching Eliwood’s festival attire.

 _“Two of them?”_ Both Lyns reply incredulously at the same time, folding their arms and looking at the two men disapprovingly.

“As if one wasn’t enough!”

“This one is even worse! He’s always hyped up from all the sweets he eats!”

"Great now there's one that  _can_ keep up with Ephraim? Wonderful."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Ephraim pipes up from your side, but you place a placating hand on his arm, holding him back.

“No happy greeting from my friends?”

New Hector frowns slightly at the people in front of him, but that dissolves instantly as Lilina rushes to hug him. She has your Hector by the hand, and is pulling him towards the other man excitedly.

“Two dads! Two dads!”

“Oh, brother.”

Eliwood shakes his head at the scene unfolding. “If I know Hector—and I do— it’s best they both not be left alone together, summoner.”

Before you can even reply, the two Hectors immediately begin boasting and comparing their axes. You, Lilina, Ephraim and Eliwood erupt into loud laughter as you hear the two men loudly challenge each other to a duel to see who is the better wielder of Armads.

Neither Lyn, however, looks impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eliwood: you summoned lilina three times, _three times_ , but not my son?  
> me, the author: eLiWOoD I Did iT fOR ThE HeCC
> 
> (i got everyone except LA!roy rip)
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	4. Infantry (Intermission)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran takes an all-infantry team out for a battle. Nino and Corrin find out what wacky hijinx they've been missing out on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just an excuse to work on improving my untagged dialogue.  
> See if you can figure out who is Ryoma, Summoner, Male NY!Corrin, Nino and Ephraim.

“So you brought us because Lyn won't leave her horse behind?”

“Pretty much. But we also need to move quicker than an armor team over this terrain while covering ranged attacks. I thought you guys might enjoy the outing.”

“I don’t like this one bit, it feels like—”

“A trap? Were you going to say a trap?”

“Yes, a trap.”

“It wouldn’t be the first we walked into.”

“You mean Hector walked into. Ephraim straight up _ran into_ —”

“I did not! _”_

“They probably think us foolish to only travel with five people this time.”

“They do have the advantage on us quite a bit here.”

“I did not _run_ into a trap.”

“You ran into a trap. Ryoma, he ran into a trap.”

"He ran into a trap, yes."

“Probably just doesn’t remember after that mage was so shocked he—"

"What did he do?"

"—and I can't believe I'm saying this— _he actually hit Ephraim in the face with his tome.”_

"Ahahahahaha!"

"It's not _that_ funny."

“So that’s how he came back sporting that shiner. I was wondering who was able to get close enough to hit him. That's not easy when someone has a lance.”

“Nah, you just gotta have really good aim with a very heavy book.”

“Guys.”

“He's lucky it wasn’t magic, at least.”

“Just keep your arrows ready, kid.” 

“Yeah, you never know when a mage might throw—”

“Wait, I can _throw_ gronnblade at people???”

 _"_ Oh my god, Nino’s gonna yeet someone to defend your honor, Ephraim. That’s so cute!”

“I don’t need a twelve year old—”

“Hey! I’m fourteen!”

“—fourteen year old—”

“I won’t hit you with it, Eph. Just let me stand behind you!”

“—to defend me. I’m perfectly capable of protecting _everyone_ here.”

“What does a _‘yeet’_ mean, summoner?”

“This is a very foolish, but amusing strategy to catch our enemies off-guard.”

“...”

“...”

"..."

“So...does that mean I should throw my bow if I run out of arrows?”

“I cannot believe that, for once, I’m the most responsible one here.”

_"Yeet!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyon: _YEET!_  
>  kiran: YASSSSSS BOI  
> lyon: did i do that right?
> 
> mages and bow units resorting to throwing their weapons to escape, new hit and run meta.  
> (ok but srsly let me have muspell posies inheritable, because if so MY BOY IS GETTING FLOWERS)


	5. Grand Hero Battle: Lyon, Pt. 1 (Summoner x Ephraim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the best battle strategy is also the worst. Kiran makes a big mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sacred Stones is the only FE game I've played all of so parts of this fic are going to be more about it, like GHBs for Lyon and Valter. Also, pretend Lyon is a rotating GHB battle because I can't believe it was all the way back in January I brought my son home.

_Stupid, stupid. I am so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t_ _even think before doing that._

You continue berating yourself as you leave the castle, searching the grounds for the familiar face that’s been by your side longer than almost anyone else in Askr. A man who’s known you practically since you came to this land. One of the first heroes you summoned and has stayed fastly by you since, fighting as though you and Askr are his own to defend.

Hell, you’d even say he’s your friend. He’s certainly called you his more than once.

Which is why you’re so angry with yourself for being so careless, to assume he’d even want to—much less _lead_ —this next battle.

Still mentally kicking yourself you find him by the lake, haloed in the setting sun’s rays. The small clearing gives a great view of the sky, of the rolling hills of Askr normally hidden from view. It glints off his armor and his legendary lance Siegmund by his side as you guiltily approach.

“Kiran,” he says, without turning. “Come. Stand by me.”

Moving to his side, Ephraim smiles before turning his face back to the sunset in front of you both. You watch his profile as he quietly stares at the sky painted in vibrant hues of pink and purple you don’t remember your world ever having.

“Its times like this Askr reminds me of Renais,” he tells you, raising a hand as though its a tangible thing. His normally confident voice is gentler, tinged with a touch of wonder.

“I often enjoyed watching the sun set in the sky after a good day of sparring.”

You kick the ground, scuffing your boot against the rich soil beneath it. The grass beneath is greener than you remember grass ever deserving to be, the lake water bluer than the oceans of your world. Something only out of a dream or a fairytale, really. And with the number of princes in this world now, perhaps it is.

“Errr...we don’t have sunsets like this where I live in my world. Too much pollution.”

“Pollution?” He frowns at the foreign word as you search for a way to explain the thick blanket of smog the gift of technology gave your world as repayment, without making it sound condescending.

“Um—waste. But in the sky,” you reply. “We made machines, contraptions to make our lives easier and one of the trade-offs was ruining our air—our sky—with what powers them.”

He shakes his head, turquoise hair ruffled gently by the wind. Ephraim often asks you to elaborate on the things you say, taking far more interest in the peculiarities of your world than many of the others heroes. He’s mentioned his interest in visiting it more than once. Hell, one of the first things you remember him ever commenting on was the strangeness of Breidablik and how he’d like to try using it one day.

“I was never much for learning about the inventions in the books of my youth. If weapons like Breidablik being commonplace or that ‘phone’ you carry is anything to go by, your world sounds far stranger than anything I could imagine them describing.”

“You have no idea.” The laugh that comes out after it is sharper than you expected. “At least Askr sometimes reminds you of where you are from. Not me.”

“Do you miss... your world too?”

You want to scream _yes, of course I miss my world! I miss my cat and my tv and the internet and my friends,_ but the longer you stay in Askr you wonder if you really do miss all of it. A world where your life lacked purpose and was drowning you, where your job was mundane and routine. Maybe you just miss the familiarity. In Askr everything feels foreign, strange, but at least you feel like you are making a difference, like your life has meaning.

Maybe it’s not _so_ bad.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He hums in reply and you kick the ground again when he doesn’t continue to carry on the conversation between you. You’re not sure what to say, what to do. You know he isn’t the best conversationalist, but you’ve never had to deal with these stilted silences you are having now. This quieter, introspective version of the man you _thought_ you already knew.

So apologizing it is.

“Um, I actually was hoping I’d find you.”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“I’m sorry about earlier. Making you take point on battling Lyon? That was extremely stupid of me.”

“Its fine.”

“No, I could have just as well had Hector or Ryoma—” you blurt out in a rush.

Now that you’ve begun, you might as well say all of it now that you’ve started. You might have as much of a streak of barreling through situations recklessly as the man in front of you normally does. It’s probably why you get along so well.

_“Its fine.”_

“Ephraim. You were one of the first I summoned here. I know you well enough to know everything _isn’t fine._ ”

The false grin he gives you nearly crushes your heart into tiny little pieces. Your friend is in pain, and he's not telling you why. After a few moments pass, he finally sighs.

“You know, times like these I used to have my sister to turn to.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I often wonder how long we’ve been here and how she is fairing without me. Knowing Lyon is here, as he was before I last—” gripping Siegmund harder, he stares into the distance.

“I know what I must do, but I wish I had her strength with me.”

_Oh._

There’s nothing you could say, then. No rousing speeches that come to your mind, not that you were ever good at them anyway. He won't meet your eyes, so you tentatively reach out your hand to turn his head and touch his cheek.

“You have me,” you reply quietly. “I’m not her, but it's the least I can do as your friend.”

"You're quite strong in your own way, Kiran. You speak to others in ways I've never been able to. I know I say this often, but you remind me of her."

After a moment he covers your hand with his, closes his eyes.

“Tell me that one day she will join us, Kiran. That, for now, it’s just not meant to be.”

"She will, Ephraim. She will."

“Yes. Perhaps it's best she not see Lyon like this... again,” he adds and the missing pieces of the puzzle start to come together for you and why. This isn't just him having to fight his old friend, this is literally  _a fight he's done before_. 

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he echoes, still holding his hand against yours but no longer meeting your eyes.

 

* * *

 

The sun sets, the stars twinkling in the Askran sky. You wish you knew the names of the constellations so you could point them out. Maybe you’ll ask Alphonse about them one day if you have the time. The castle has a library you’ve found people in on occasion and he’s often invited you to join him in, but it's rare you’ve had the time to read anything other than books on tactics and strategies.

Dew is collecting on the grass you’re both laying side by side on, but you don’t mind. Ephraim tells you story after story, about growing up, about his sister. About Lyon, about Renais. Its more than you’ve ever heard him speak before, the words coming out hesitant at first, as though he’s not used to sharing, but eventually he finds his own pace. He asks you about your own world and you tell him as much as you can, until you’ve both ran out and just watch the stars and listen to the water lap at the edge of the lake.

You wiggle your freezing toes in your boots. Your eyes threaten to slip shut, but you make no effort to move from where you are, content.

And most importantly, you listen.

Because Eirika would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ephraim, secretly liking moonlit strolls along the lake and gazing at the night sky with kiran but is terrible with explaining feels with words because of his upbringing and also being misunderstood as only a one-dimensional thirsy battle hoe: you remind me of... my sister?  
> me, as kiran: ...fuk.
> 
> (tfw u sisterzone kiran so your bias for your husband doesn't show in ur fic lololol but fukkin fight me after his level 40 speech in FEH abt him being more than just a jock)
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	6. Meditation (Summoner x Ryoma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the looming stress of the upcoming battles weighs on the summoner's mind, Ryoma offers a solution to Kiran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to write Kiran x Ryoma, but he keeps being like actual big brother every time oops.

You wake up more rested the next day than you’ve felt in a while, though not entirely sure what happened after your conversation with Ephraim. You decide not to dwell on it, more pressing matters are at hand that leave you pacing the halls as you try and figure out how to combat them.

The heroes around you seem to be in generally good spirits since you announced that you’re giving them all the day to choose their activities before you set out to battle the red mage the following day. Lyn has already left the castle to practice in the arching range with Corrin, and you know some of the lancers have paired up on the training grounds to spar. You pass Ephraim in the hall, joking loudly with Hector and Eliwood. There's no trace of the concern he had the previous night, as they stop to greet you.

“Summoner!”

Hector’s booming voice echoes in the space. “Come watch me beat these boisterous youths into the ground and show you the true power of Armads!”

You can’t help but smile, as both Ephraim and Eliwood roll their eyes.

“Go easy on them, General. Those are two of my best lancers with you and I’d rather not have to dispatch a healer out there _again.”_

“Very well,” he replies, slapping Eliwood on the back hard enough he almost stumbles without the help of his Casa Blanca and Ephraim catching his elbow, keeping him upright. “Ha ha, I’ll beat them with a regular axe instead!”

You’re not sure if _that’s_ an improvement.

You shoot Ephraim a worried look, but he just gives you a disarming grin in reply, before turning to his friends.

“Come on old man, you’re all talk. Right, El? Even with the disadvantage, we can take him.”

“All talk. Yep,” Eliwood agrees, nodding. “I’ll fight him... after you, of course. I’ve done my fair share of sparring with Hector, thank you.”

They leave, raucous laughter echoing through the halls and you desperately wish you could be as lighthearted as the trio of men. Your concern about the red mage's magical attacks slicing through your preferred team's defenses still hasn’t lifted, nor has your concern for sending Ephraim into this battle, despite the tactical advantage of him knowing the enemy the best.

And so, you begin your pacing of the castle with renewed vigor. Orbs clenched in one hand and Breidablik tightly in the other, you debate if you should summon more allies, though you have no idea who.

At this rate you’ll wear an angry trail into the carpet before you decide.

“Summoner.”

You nearly drop Breidablik in surprise, your pouch of orbs falling from your hands to scatter across the floor like iridescent marbles. Turning around, you see Ryoma frowning, eyes following the path of an orb that stops to rest at his feet.

“I’m sorry to surprise you.”

“No, it’s okay. I was just—”

“Distracted?” He offers, and you nod quickly before bending down to scoop up as many orbs as you can, shoving them into the pouch.

“You often are these days. You didn’t take my advice to meditate.”

You scratch your head. “Ah, about that. No, I haven’t.”

“You could benefit much from it in these troubling times,” he replies, bending down despite his heavy armor to pick up the orbs near him. “It quells bad thoughts and promotes the best ones. If you’d like to today, I was about to shortly.”

“Think it might help me focus my summoning?”

“Perhaps. It certainly will not hurt your chances.”

Weighing your options of worrying alone, rashly summoning or going along with the man, you figure its worth a shot. “Ah, what the hell,” you reply as you pick up the last orb on the ground and pocket it, before returning both them and Breidablik to your side and falling in step with the taller man. “Okay, I’m in.”

Walking down the halls, you keep pace with the man’s long strides and quiet footsteps wondering how he looks so graceful while even the tiniest bit of armor leaves you off-balance and clumsy on your feet. You wish you were a fighter too, but it doesn't come as naturally to you as the heroes all around you that have been doing it all of their lives. Maybe you should pick up ranged combat or magic instead.

“If I may ask— what troubles you these days, Kiran?”

“The fate of Askr,” you reply dryly. “Sorry. Rude.”

“You’ve been charged with no easy task. I’m familiar with the weight of a country’s fate resting on your shoulders. It is no small burden to bear, but you normally bear it more gracefully.”

“I honestly can’t tell if that was a compliment or not, Ryoma.”

He pauses for a moment, finger to his lips.

“Is it Prince Ephraim?”

_“No!”_

You splutter out perhaps more forcefully than entirely necessary, hiding as far back into your cloak as possible. “I mean, of course I care about him. I care about you _all,_ but —”

Ryoma cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“He's troubled greatly by this next battle, though he does well not showing it. You having the acumen to recognize it is a sign of a leader who knows her allies well.”

“Are you... troubled by the next battle?” You ask, hoping to change the subject from the Renaitian prince _everyone_ seems to be asking you about these days.

“I fight only to put an end to fighting. And because you wish it of me.”

“Is that like a Hoshidan proverb or something?”

“Or something,” he replies, before opening the door to a sparsely decorated room. Cushions are on the floor and a tea set is on a small table, but there’s little else in the room you can spot.

“One moment.”

He begins carefully stripping off parts of his armor, as you avert your eyes.

“You may find it more comfortable to do so as well, Kiran.”

“I’m okay. No armor here today,” you reply, as your eyes still avoid him and settle onto a cushion, folding your legs and loosening the muscles in your body.

You have a general idea of what meditation requires, but have only tried once or twice in the past. Closing your eyes, you hear Ryoma’s voice in front of you and you quickly open them to find him sitting down facing you in his normal clothes, sans all the red, before closing your eyes again.

“When I meditate,” he begins. “I empty my mind. I envision a relaxing place. For me, that place I think of is Hoshido. Of her cherry- blossom trees in bloom...rain in the gardens...a moon on the wane.”

“Okay. Trees. Sky. Birds chirping. No traffic or cars, just nature. Gotcha.”

“Lately I’ve begun to think of Askr, of what I know of the Places from this realm...the faces of members in the Order of Heroes…”

As he continues, your thoughts flit from your troubles, to the quiet stillness of Askr you’ve seen, of the moments of laughter and happiness you’ve shared with all the people you’ve met since coming to this strange land. You think of the vast snow of Nifl, of the rolling hills of green outside the castle, of the stars dotting the night sky. After that, you count the orbs you have currently one by one, recite the names of the people you’ve summoned in reverse order and—

You’re not sure how much time has passed but when you open your eyes, Ryoma is still sitting in a lotus position, smiling serenely as you stretch your arms above your head.

“Okay, I can totally see why you like this meditation thing.” You say, as you hear joints pop and let out a satisfied hum in reply.

“Kiran, that wasn’t meditation.”

“Huu~?”

Your face scrunches in confusion and he doesn’t even bother suppressing the chuckle that escapes him.

“Though I am happy all the same for your company, I hope you join me again when you are less weary. You fell asleep.”

_Oops._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, summoning under the last focus banner, tossing orbs: Y U NO GIVE ME MORE LOBSTER HUSBANDO  
> intsys: yo greedy bitch ur ryoma is already +2  
> me: but i need a moar speedy boi, 44 is not enuff for this meta  
> (t19 is br00tal.)
> 
>  **requests for future chapters:** _Kiran losing it on Eph because she's not Eirika (ouch anon, ok)_
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	7. Grand Hero Battle: Lyon, Pt. 2 (Summoner x Ephraim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Hero Battle against Lyon has unexpected results for the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone pls give Lyon a hug, a cookie, a better tome in heroes and more merges. Why do Narcian, Navarre and F!Robin get +6 and my boy only gets +2? INTSYS FIX THIS EGREGIOUS ERROR.

The battle against Lyon goes even worse than you expected.

Disastrous, really.

You knew both Hector and Ephraim couldn’t take too many magic hits, but you weren’t expecting the sheer overwhelming nature of the shadow prince and his subjects also against Ryoma and his Naglfar decimating Lyn’s bow attacks as well. There are many times you pale as the heroes narrowly avoid certain death, but they finally emerge victorious, Lyon’s unconscious body carried in Ryoma’s arms.

You look at the bruised young man and think about the stories Ephraim told you of the quiet and helpful friend, having a hard time reconciling the two as the same person. The purple haired man otherwise looks serene with his eyes closed, peaceful even though blood is crusted on his lips and lilac robes, a nasty scrape running down the side of his face from his fall.

He looks far too frail for all the destruction caused.

Walking back to the castle, your team moves in complete and utter silence other than steady breathing and the heavy footsteps of tired soldiers. Your eyes dart worriedly to Ephraim and back, but his just stare ahead, trained on Ryoma’s back. You don’t know if you should say anything or leave him be after seeing his hesitation on the battlefield once they finally reached Lyon, Ryoma moving him aside. It was he that delivered the final blow with Raijinto that felled the red mage. And though it is a great victory for your team, for the Order of Heroes, no one seems to be celebrating Veronica’s current loss of another potent ally.

On your other side, you can tell Lyn is limping from her horse falling at one point in the battle. Her face is set in steely resolve as she walks her back, not willing to put weight on the already overexerted mare. Hector tries to help her, but she shrugs him of with a glare so he just walks next to her, blood crusted on the legendary axe Armads he rests on his shoulders.

Priscilla, bless her heart, already has her staff ready and meets you by the castle gate. She leads you to the infirmary and immediately goes to work tending Lyon, as she shoos you all out of the way so that Ryoma can set him down.

“You really did a number on him, didn’t you?” She states, clicking her tongue and Ephraim visibly winces at the healer’s words. You reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“It had to be done,” Ryoma replies simply.

“Will he—” Ephraim starts, then stops mid-sentence. “He’ll survive, right?”

“Of course! You think I’m some kind of three-star amateur at this or something?” Priscilla replies with far too cheery of a grin for the situation. You’re happy she's taken to healing rather than battling, having been quite the godsend since Clarine left, but there’s occasionally something to be said about her bedside manner.

“Now _get out_ so I can concentrate!”

She nearly whacks you both with her staff as you scurry out of the room.

 

* * *

 

You aren’t surprised to see Ephraim dozing in the chair by Lyon’s bedside when you creep into the infirmary late that night. He hasn’t even changed out of his armor from the fight, dirt and blood still streaked on his face and the only things missing are his gloves and bracers. His hand is loosely holding Lyon’s, bridging the gap between them, as he softly snores.

“Kiran?”

He blinks his eyes sleepily.

“Yeah.”

“What are you—”

“I was worried too,” you reply, settling into the other chair in the room next to him. “About both of you, honestly.”

“The worst of his injuries seem to be healed as Priscilla said.” Ephraim shoots a look at his hand, finger’s tangled between the unconscious man’s. “He hasn’t woken up though.”

“Mmmm."

You look at Lyon and he does look a bit better, but the gauntness is still there. You were hoping maybe it was just in comparison to Ryoma, because on the battlefield he seemed so formidable of a foe, so daunting. But up close he looks, especially stripped of his robes and in a simple cotton shift? Well,  _frail,_ would certainly be a way to put it.

"He’s been through a lot, yeah?”

Ephraim nods his head.

“Far too much.”

“Give it time, then. You’ll have him back soon enough.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “I wish I had your optimism.”

It’s actually a bold face lie, but you figure it’s what he needs right now. You aren’t sure if Lyon really will wake up, though Priscilla did seem optimistic about his chances.

After Gunnthrá, death has been weighing on your mind a lot recently and Lyon just might be caught between the liminal space between death and life you’ve never really had to think about, as someone who was neither religious nor believed in magic in your world. But you’ve seen magic here. And not just the kind that harms. Instant healing, resurrection. Life after the kiss of death-defying all rational scientific explanation. It scares you because you don’t even understand how the charms you carry and have been occasionally relying on work. One of these days they’re going to fail you at the least opportune time and you are not looking forward to facing those consequences.

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask awkwardly.

Good friend or not, you're pretty shit at talking about stuff like this and you don't want to make it seem like you're trying to rub the mistake he made out on the battlefield in his face. Sure, it was an error in judgment that almost might have cost multiple people their lives, but it didn't. And you're not sure you wouldn't have done the same if it was a close friend of yours as well. 

“Not particularly.”

“‘kay.”

You sit there in silence for a while, but nothing changes. The even exhalations of the two in synch are the only sounds in the room. It's a bittersweet tableau, the two of them. You don’t know what it's like to have the kinds of bonds he has, twin sisters and childhood friends, and you’ve told him as much. Maybe he knows you have nothing you could say, no special summoner wisdom to fix this situation, just like you couldn’t help Fjorm.

He doesn’t raise his head when you get up, chair scraping the floor. You give him one last wistful look before leaving the room. Walking down the hall slowly, you hear his voice faintly, far away.

 

_I wished I could be with you again, my friend. But not like this. Was my wish a mistake?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, the author: hOw DO i cREaTe tENsiON O i KNoW hOW  
> kiran: ho don't do it  
> me: *does the thing*
> 
> (meanwhile, priscilla breaks the 4th wall because why not?)
> 
> i already have chapters written for summoner x lyon, summoner x valter and summoner x xander, as well as two more with our boy eph getting back to his regular self. but i feel a strange need to fill in the gaps with IDK ACTUAL STORY in the meantime??? idk??? i apologize for actually trying to keep a story arc. maybe they'll finally invade muspell one day hahaha.
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	8. No Respite (General)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things in the castle come to a head as rumors fly and mages get jealous of the other units on your team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized after I 5* my Lyon I only have like one built mage (Nino) in a mage heavy arena meta. Naturally, this led to me thinking about how the disparity would play out in this fic as well. You'll be happy to know after thoroughly having my ass handed to me in T18 getting demoted and having to deal with duo Rein teams to claw my way back up, I am now working on Arvis, LA!Lyn and LA!Lilina as well as a res wall god Berkut's Lance (+Res) LA!Eliwood and a Sigurd to specifically counter that asshole.
> 
> I promise to any of you Reinhardt stans reading this (if you exist) I don't totally hate the dude, I'm just currently very salty.

Lyon, however, does end up waking up two days later but his recovery is far from speedy. You don’t realize how much you relied on Ephraim day to day in your life until he’s gone from all the meetings and outings around the castle, instead helping tend to Lyon’s recovery.

You alternate between bringing Azura and Shiro on missions while he’s absent, surprised at how well they end up synergizing with your already established group. Azura was happy to be of assistance, more than proficient with a lance, and her singing and dancing greatly helped raise the spirits of your team. Shiro filled a different role, being able to predict his father’s movements even better than you could have guessed, thought the beatings he endured on the frontlines left you quite concerned. But to the credit of your team members, regardless who came with you, the smaller skirmishes you engaged in were won easily.

Which left you to bigger matters.

Like that invasion of Muspell you’d been putting off.

Not knowing the terrain and being at a huge disadvantage in numbers has left your side playing rather safe, all things considered. Waiting for word from your emissaries to invade, you’ve been continuing to rally allies round the clock grinding for orbs harder than you ever had before.

In the meantime, the plan is to cripple the opposing forces by drawing out key players into smaller battles so they’ll be absent during the bigger fights.

Among the most notable players being the wyvern lords Narcian, Michalis and Valter. Getting the enemies out the sky stands as top priority currently and the war room is busy as you all scramble to take advantage of the opportunity to launch a massive strike against all three simultaneously. Every mage and archer you have at your disposal is currently in the war room and it's more crowded than it’s ever been, as Anna goes over the detailed plans.  

“We need all hands on deck if we are going to do this” Anna tells the room, somberly. “One of them is hard enough but it could end up being an all-out bloodbath trying to take out these three if we aren't prepared.”

Pointing to the map on the table, she outlines where the teams will move or set up. “We’ll divert their forces with an infantry skirmish down in the valley, but I want every arrow trained on the sky. Lyn’s the most mobile so she’ll be leading that team.”

“Understood,” Lyn replies, crossing her arms.

Takumi huffs, but otherwise, the other archers are quiet.

“Next,” Anna continues. “Priscilla, you’re too mobile to waste having in one spot and it’s too dangerous to have people come to you. I’ll need you to tend the wounded since we won’t have many chances.” She looks around the room for a moment before locking eyes on the blue-haired lord in the corner. “Sigurd, I need you to keep her safe since Leo, Reinhardt and Lilina will be out there dealing damage, okay?”

“Understood.”

Both Priscilla and Sigurd nod and Anna shoots a look at the calvary mages.

“Reinhardt, Leo— those tomes you guys wanted upgraded, its become a priority now. Kiran will be devoting time to helping you craft better ones with whatever resources you need, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply guiltily. “Of course.”

In and among the more sordid rumors circulating in the castle were the ones of misappropriation of funds. The mages of the castle had been particularly unrestful during the time between battles and once they caught wind of the rumor the two mages immediately followed suit and accused you of blatant favoritism, complaining about the lack of funds for them to get better tomes while you sunk more and more resources into weapons instead.

Those particular rumors had hurt even more than the usual jabs about your love life.

You never meant to make anyone feel excluded that wanted to help, you just might have gone overboard helping the people who you were closest to and had asked you first. You weren’t the most outgoing of people and the amount of pressure being put on your shoulders occasionally made you rely on the other people around you to deal with coordinating the sheer amount of people gathered in that castle which might have contributed to the liberties taken by some.

It also didn’t help that Anna had a tight fist around the funds of the castle after accusing you of having no idea about the value of things in their world or how to haggle prices, so hearing her relent about the tomes was especially jarring, and made you look even worse not having her as an excuse to hide behind as to why you hadn’t already procured them.

“Finally,” Leo huffs, but Anna cuts him off with a glare.

Menawhile, Reinhardt gives you a smile that makes your blood run cold.

* * *

 

After the meeting is over you excuse yourself to the archery grounds, under the guise of wanting to both help back up the archers, as well as observe their talents. Comparatively to other weapons, the amount of skilled archers you have is only few, so you’re relying on their abilities rather than sheer numbers, along with the diversion tactics created with your infantry teams and your calvary magic users.

You’re hoping the walk helps you clear your head of the fog it's in, the uncertainty and unhappiness swimming around in circles along with your guilt and general unease at the risky plans laid out earlier.

“Summoner, I didn’t know you were familiar with the bow.”

Lyn stands behind you, her own brave bow in hand and a quiver of arrows on her back.

“I took a few archery classes in my world, but I’m not great,” you reply, testing the weight of one of the recurve bows that looks to be about your size. Making sure its able to shoot left-handed you grab a quiver of practice arrows from the bin. “Honestly, I just wanted to get out of the castle. It’s overwhelming.”

“Practice is practice all the same,” she replies. “But yes, I agree. Today was not kind to you.”

 You watch Cordelia, Corrin, and Takumi all hit the bullseyes in front of them only moderately jealous at their own skills, despite having not been out on the battlefield in quite some time.

“What do you think I should do?”

Lyn makes a noncommittal noise before lining up and then releasing the string on her own bow, the arrow whizzing in the air to hit dead center of the target.

“Wouldn’t asking Ryoma or Ephraim be better?”

You shrug.

“I already know Ryoma's and Ephraim is MIA.  I value your opinion too. You’ve been out there just as much as the boys have.”

“Very well.”

She lets loose another arrow.

“I think we’ve been putting off the inevitable not invading Muspell. While I agree we shouldn’t be hasty, I think that is the source of much of the unrest in the castle.”

You try to do the same, your own arrow hitting just shy of the center ring of the target.

_Gods, you’ve gotten rusty at this._

“When we do not stand united against a common enemy, we fall to our own squabbles and petty disagreements,” Lyn adds, and you immediately think back to the discussion in the war room earlier, as well as something you heard along the way.

_“What is with you people and rumors? First my own sister, then the summoner?” You overheard him saying to someone else, as you walked out of the castle. “People with time to spread them aren’t training enough if you ask me. Enough with the gossip, there are limits to what I find amusing.”_

That one had stung more than you expected, his casual and immediate dismissal. But you couldn’t find fault in it. There  _were_ too many rumors in the castle, feelings being hurt and people complaining about favoritism. Something divisive did need to be done regarding the unrest amongst the heroes you’d been somewhat ignoring, hoping it would resolve itself. You just don’t know what exactly.

You must have a look on your face because Lyn props up her bow and folds her arms, fixing you with a look of her own.

“I wouldn’t take Leo or Reinhardt’s opinions too seriously, Kiran. They can be… _overzealous_ at times. We all know you are doing your best with the knowledge you have.”

“It's not just that, Lyn. I— I think I made a mistake.”

You take a giant gulp of air before continuing. “I’ve relied too much on some of you and it’s causing issues. _I’m having issues._ I should be letting someone else less selfish lead you all."

Lyn says nothing in reply for many moments and you wonder how this young woman, younger than you by some odd years, became so wise. What she had to go through that left her so cynical and practical.

“Then fix them, Kiran. Your Issues."

Picking back up her bow, she continues practicing. Not a single arrow she releases misses the center of the bullseye as you watch in awe even though you're well aware of Lyn's skills.

"We have no time for distractions now.”

Her words echo in your ears as you continue notching your own arrows, just narowly missing the center of your target each time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reinderpt: Magic is—  
> Me, as Kiran: I swear to god if you say 'everything' I will punch you, Baron von Tinyhands  
> Reinderpt: *creepy smile* —still the arena meta, summoner.  
> Me: ARGH I HATE THAT I FIVE STARRED YOU TWICE
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	9. History (Summoner x Reinhardt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran finally mends things with Reinhardt, only to end up in an unexpected argument with someone else shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ephraim, Prince of Renais and King of Misunderstandings rip. Also, sassy Rein after getting over Ishtar and Kiran might possibly be the best HC ever borrowed from a friend.
> 
> This chapter is a fusion of a friend challenging me to be nice to Reinhardt after the last chapter, as well as an anon sending me the prompt: _Can I request Kiran losing it on Eph because she's not Eirika? like, Kiran feels she's not enough to help or be beside Eph bc she's not what Eph wants. Please and thank you;;;_ It's not exactly that, but having them argue tore me up inside regardless.

High on the list of issues for you to fix is the situation with the mages. There’s also the situation with Ephraim and Lyon as well, but the mages are more pressing currently, which is how you end up spending the rest of your day back in the castle, sequestered in the library with Reinhardt. The two of you are working together to figure out ways to strengthen the tome users, whether it be by access to new spells, refining their tomes or giving them new ones entirely.

“I think the new Lyn would do well with this,” he replies, passing you a winged tome with a blue cover, as your shoulders bump. “I acquired it some time ago, but prefer my own Dire Thunder. She seems to have a fondness for hanging back with her team and it will be of advantage to her.”

You turn the book over in your hands, hoping maybe to feel the crackle of energy from it but nothing happens. In your hands, it’s just a regular old book.

Setting it down, you continue.

“And for Lilina?”

“None of these.”

He waves a dismissive hand at the stack of books in front of you both. “We should ask Nino for another Gronnblade. She’s sure to have a few lying around considering how many times you’ve summoned her.”

Scribbling down a reminder for yourself, you scan the rest of the list the two of you have made.

“That just leaves—”

“Leo, L’arachel, Lyon and Tharja,” he replies, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, as you nod. “Leo can make use of literally anything we give him, though I think he underestimates his own power. L’arachel will need us to find her a similar tome to Nino’s, and I haven’t the faintest idea about Lyon as he’s been sequestered since arrival here.”

You rub your temples, surprised that he’s kept a close eye on all the magic users in your stead.

“Honestly, you wonder why I keep forgetting? There’s only like six of you, that's like not even half of the infantry. Wait, five. Tharja is still on probation for hexing half of the mess hall. I still don’t trust her or Lyon further than I can throw them or their tomes.”

Reinhardt opens his eyes and gives you a sly smile.

“No love for the Gradoan prince? Your boyfriend will be _crushed_ to hear—”

“Ephraim is _not_ my boyfriend!” You interject angrily, only to have one of the heavier books fall off the table and land on your foot. You curse up a storm as you place it back on the table and your toe throbs.

“I was teasing, summoner. Though I seem to hit a spot as sore as your foot now. You know, my ear is yours if you wish to speak about it.”

You narrow your eyes at the smiling man next to you.

“This is why I never bring you anywhere, you’re _awful company.”_

“And yet, here we are,” he replies, steepling his fingers with a grin. “Chatting. You know I'm quite good at listening to the woes of young women in love.”

“I’m _not_ Olwen, Rein.”

“Never said you were. I’d never imply you were _my_ sister. That would be a tragic mistake.” He makes a tutting noise as you snort at the low blow.

“Ha-ha. You’ve grown quite the sense of humor since I summoned you, you know,” you reply, changing the subject. “Not the stern-faced, lovesick mage I originally summoned.”

He gives you a casual shrug. “I’ve had time to ponder my situation.”

“And what was that?”

“That it was foolish to draw lines in the sand when we’re all on the same side.”

“Wow, _deep.”_

Though originally one of your favored units, you stopped bringing him on missions as much, not having a team on horseback or the real ability to ride them yourself to keep up. And rather than accuse you of your own shortcomings, his remedy was to patiently teach you how to ride and wait for his day back on a team, though even that had lately fallen by the wayside for other more pressing matters.

“Honestly, Rein. Tell me: have I _really_ been that negligent in noticing stuff?”

He drops the grin, but still doesn’t answer.

“You know what? I think we’ve accomplished as much as we can tonight,” he finally replies more seriously, closing a particularly musty tome and rolling up your notes so he can pocket them. “Let's go patrol. It’s been quite some time but I’ll let you continue your riding lessons with Astarte, if you wish to do so.”

Your eyes light up at the mention of his horse’s name, previous conversation forgotten.

“Can I feed her carrots too?”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

After you’ve helped stable Astarte, it’s far later than you intended. The sun has long since set and most of the noises in the castle have ceased for slumber.

Rather than going back after the night patrol came on duty, you chose to continue riding the perimeter of the grounds, the wind whipping through your hair as the mare relished the open spaces. During the breaks when she slowed to a trot, you found yourself catching up with her owner, realizing you had indeed missed his company. You’re not quite sure when lines had been drawn in the sand like he said earlier, but you somehow found yourselves on opposite sides of the _same side,_ the feeling leaving a sour taste in your mouth like bile thinking about it.

You’ll have to make a better effort of trying to spend time with him, with others.

Hell, maybe some attention would even calm down Tharja.

The thought is still on your mind as you walk down the halls of the castle, distracted. You’re not entirely surprised to see Ephraim leaving Lyon’s room when you bump into him in the hall, but instead are thankful you’ve finally been given an opportunity with him alone and don’t have to awkwardly excuse him from Lyon’s presence to converse about the plans at hand for the next day.

It’s not so much that you don’t actually trust Lyon like you told Reinhardt, just that you are wary about critical information meeting the ears of those unnecessary to know it in general. Were Lyon not recovering, you might have actually asked him to help with the strike. But the young mage seems to still be mostly bed-bound, recovering from something even worse than just the battle against him.

“Ephraim—” you begin, as you both look at each other sheepishly. He looks far more tired than you’ve ever seen him. No grin on his face. No armor or lance by his side. Just tired. Probably more tired than even you look, and that's saying something.

“Kiran, I— hello. Wait— _why are you out so late?”_

Well, so much for things not being awkward.

“I—uhhh, er— was patrolling with Reinhardt. Sorry, what were you going to say?” You ask, changing the subject.

His eyes narrow. “No, go ahead. You first.”

“Um. How’s Lyon doing?”

A look of relief washes over his face and the tension in his body slightly drains. “Better. Much better, actually. He’s eating meals and staying awake hours at a time now.”

“Good! I mean—that’s good he’s doing better.”

“Yeah...”

You fidget for a moment before finally letting out a sigh.

“Look, I know this probably isn’t the best time but… if you really feel like letting off some steam, we’re preparing to fight Valter before Muspell and, well— _okay not just him, also Michalis and Narcian_ —” you add, amending your statement. “Anyway, I thought you might like to go with the infantry team since you’ve been in the castle since...”

You trail off, noticing Ephraim giving you an unreadable look.

“Are you planning on trying to recruit them too?” He asks, his voice with an edge to it you’ve never heard before.

“I—well, er—yeah. I’m not sure how Veronica gathered all of these people and gained their fealty, but maybe if it’s similar to how she brainwashed Lyon they’ll join us once they realize...”

“No,” he replies simply. “If you’re asking my opinion, it’s no.”

“Um, I wasn’t? But noted, I guess?”

“Michalis sounds reasonable enough, but the other two? _No.”_ There’s a dark look in his turquoise eyes when you meet them. “I’ll gladly kill the Moonstone for you, but keeping him caged here is foolish, even to me.”

“That’s not your call,”  you reply, voice going up a notch. “We’ve already prepared for if this doesn’t—”

“He terrorized people for fun. He stalked Eirika. In my world—”

“Yeah, well, _I’m not Eirika!”_ You finally grit out, having enough of the conversation, of the comparisons of late.  You’re not mad at Ephraim over the whole thing with Lyon, _you really aren’t_ , but your patience with him has been wearing thin considering his absence, as well as you tiring of him trying to protect you from freaking everything like you were her.

_Gods, you made such a mistake letting this go on for so long unchecked._

“And frankly, _Ephraim,_ I didn’t ask for your opinion. Only your help. We, as a group, already decided on this _while you were gone.”_

“Wait—” he grabs you by the shoulder, as you shrug him off. “You’re mad at me for not being at the meetings? Or are you mad at me for comparing you to her?”

“Yeah.”

“Which?”

“Both. Everything. You. _Myself.”_

“I’m sor—”

You cut him off with the most scathing look you hopefully muster, which is enough to send him stepping back a pace from you. “So help me Gods, Ephraim,  _do not give me an empty apology right now.”_

“I’m just trying to protect you! He’s dangerous!”

There’s no debate who the _he_ in question is.

“There’s no guarantee he’ll join you, Kiran.”

You should listen, but you won't.

_“This is a mistake.”_

“Then we kill him!” You reply. “Though I’d like to give him the same chance I gave Lyon. Or are we only giving those out to friends these days?”

And there it is, finally you see him pissed off at you, anger clearly apparent on his face.

“You have no idea what you are dealing with, Kiran. This isn’t even remotely the same.”

“The way I see it, it is. If he won't pledge fealty, he dies! The same as it was for Lyon, but you couldn't land that blow and nearly got yourself and the rest of us killed. Ryoma had to do it for you. Once Valter pledges he’s bound by the same anti-violence rules the rest of you are. So whatever shit you think he might pull at least won't have a death count and _I can handle that call_.”

He grits his teeth. “One chance?”

“Only one.”

_“Fine.”_

“Ryoma’s leading the infantry team. Report to him tomorrow.”

“You don’t want me to—”

He’s never gone into battle in Askr without being by your side. Your dismissal of him clearly noted by the hurt look on his face. To his credit and his upbringing as a prince, he quickly replaces it with a look of indifference, a mask of nothingness.

_“I’ve got it handled.”_

“Of course,” he replies. “Anything else?”

“I’m fucking going to bed. So, really, I hope not. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t answer, turning on his heel back to Lyon’s room as you both walk side by side in silence until parting ways.

Finally reaching your room, you throw your cloak off and onto the floor. Breidablik gets similar treatment, clattering against the stones. Only your few orbs left do you gently set down before stripping to your smallclothes and falling face first into your fluffy bed.

You toss and turn in bed that night, wishing things weren’t the way they were. Mending one friendship, then possibly losing another too much interpersonal conflict to deal with the day before the biggest battle you all have faced since Nifl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt: *strolls in with cool shades* yo girl  
> Kiran: oh god what now  
> Reinhardt: What did the horse say after it tripped?  
> Kiran: why are you like this  
> Reinhardt: _Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!_
> 
> Reinhardt tells bad dad jokes once you are his close friend and you can't convince me otherwise.
> 
> comment here or send me an ask/follow @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com) if you have requests, i might be able to fit them into the story :)


	10. Grand Hero Battle: Valter, Pt. 1 (Summoner x Valter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the team sets out to fight Valter, Kiran tries not to be distracted by the events of the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Valter is great, he's such a creep, I love it.

Sharena and Anna find you the next morning in the great room, petting Feh and feeding it scraps of meat. The owl hoots happily in reply, nibbling on the leftovers as you glare into your morning coffee. Around you the castle is as busy as ever, the mess hall hectic with soldiers grabbing a quick bite before getting ready for you all to head out but they seem to poignantly avoid you as though you have a sign on your back.

“Orb for your thoughts?”

“Takes five to start a summons, Sharena,” you reply tiredly, as both she and Anna sit down next to you at the table.

“You’re a real peach today.” Anna rolls her eyes as she sets a bowl of oatmeal in front of you. “Eat up.”

“Nnngh.”

You pause in feeding Feh another scrap, only to receive a sharp nip to the hand urging you to continue. _What a fickle creature._

Sharena gives you a concerned look.

“Does it have anything to do with…” she trails off quietly as Anna interjects “You mean the shouting match last night half of the castle overheard? Because I’ve never seen you like this before a battle.”

 _O f course_ it’s the first thing anyone asks you about, the same thing weighing on your mind and causing your gloomy attitude. Normally you’d be nervous, but at the very least put up the front of being a strong leader. Today though, you can’t seem to find it in you to pretend.

“Hey, is Feh a boy or a girl? I never asked, but—”

“A girl,” Sharena replies, giving her a pat on the head as well. She scoots closer so she can lower her voice in the noise hall and Feh takes the distraction to fly back to her normal perch. “You didn’t answer our question.”

“I didn’t answer because I don’t want to,” you grumble between mouthfuls of bland tasting oats, quickly shoveling them in your mouth. “That conversation is—it’s nobody’s business, even if everyone heard it.”

“Sure.”

“If you say so.”

Neither of the two look the least bit convinced as you roll your eyes and continue talking between bites.

“Seriously, guys. Drop it. Part of this whole mess was from all the rumors you started.”

Sharena gives you a placid look, before nibbling on her own breakfast, which only makes you more irritated that you can’t seem to do the same and hide your own emotions. You give her a sour look that only increases as you notice the expression on Anna’s face is one of calm indifference as well.

“Have you talked to him yet about it?”

“I— he probably doesn’t want to talk to me right after last night.” You fiddle with your spoon, eyes quickly scanning the hall that no one is listening in. “And the battle we’re about to go to is more important.”

“I can’t argue that second point, Kiran. But also, regardless whatever rumors around the castle may say, you’ve been friends since you basically got here.”

“Yeah, you could do way worse. He’s pretty cute and good in a fight,” Anna adds.

You glare at her and she holds up her hands. “I’m just saying!”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit,” Sharena adds quietly. “I know my brother was harsh telling you not to get close to any of the heroes, but he was the one that helped us see the _real you_. Not what we wanted to see, or you wanted us to see. That’s something special.”

“Oh my god, okay. You might be a princess, but you’re the queen of guilt trips, Sharena,” you reply with a heavy sigh before turning to Anna. “And you are the absolute worst. Will you both leave me alone if I promise I’ll talk to Ephraim when we get back?”

“Atta girl! Go get your prince charming!”

Anna slaps you on the back hard enough you almost choke on the mouthful of coffee you just drank as heat rises to your cheeks.

These two, _honestly._

 

* * *

 

You let Ryoma and Anna lead the infantry teams, Reinhardt the cavalry, and Lyn the archers.

Usually you’d be close to the frontlines in smaller battles where you’d be covered, but this one is going to take a more sizable area, will have enemies coming from all directions and you don’t want to leave yourself mostly defenseless in the thick of the fight. It’s not fair to have people have their attention split trying to cover you, so you’ve decided to stay up on the hilltops in the cover of some trees and bushes where the archers are mostly grouped, since it seems to be your safest option.

Forgoing the armory, you bring both a dagger and the special bow Virion gave you before he left, mostly for good luck and self-defense, not as much for offensive power. Even if you aren’t the greatest marksman, you can probably hit a large target like a wyvern if you see one coming towards you and do your part to contribute to the strike.

Strapping the blade to your thigh and the quiver of arrows to your back, you try and clear your mind and not think about anything else except the fight.

Reinhardt finds you just as you’re about to meet up with Ryoma, pulling gently on Astarte’s reins as she comes to a slow trot next to you. While you probably could ride horseback with someone like him, especially since his horse is used to both of your weight, you don’t want to be an extra burden on anyone involved in such a critical plan and aren’t completely convinced in your marksman skills while riding horseback.

“Ah, Kiran. Would you like me to take you for the time being?”

“I was going to meet up with Ryoma, but thanks.”

“He already left after Commander Anna said you were currently indisposed.”

You’re about to reply, but he cuts you off. “Let me finish. I offered to wait for you. It will be no issue catching up to them. I’m glad you had the time to sort out your thoughts.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Reinhardt helps you up. “Looks like I’ll be having _two_ talks when I get back.”

You still decide to take him up on the generous offer to ride together until you are mostly there and ready to divide further into groups. You watch the scenery blur as Astarte picks up speed and you quickly close in on the rows of soldiers moving as a group. A few look over at you, your white and gold cloak still obvious despite you being on the back of Reinhardt’s horse, arms still in their loose hold around his torso so you don’t fall.

He meets up with the other calvary riders, falling in line with Sigurd and Priscilla.

“Glad you could make it,” Priscilla quips. “Both of you.”

“And miss the battle I helped plan?” You reply. “Never."

You continue riding until the thicket of trees begins waning into less and less of a dense forest, and you begin to see just sky as the destination in front of you, the valley you are luring them into nearby.

You watch as the groups divide by type and you dismount from Astarte. You turn to join Lyn’s group, as the infantry and mages split from the archers, but not before looking back at Reinhardt. His tome is now in his hand, unopened, the reins to his horse in the other. You can already feel the shift in the air, the taste of ozone on your tongue and the pang of worry you had for him subsides. He's an excellent lead for the cavalry mages. He fights conservatively, but decisively. Has never given you pause for concern because he's easily able to stay out of harm's way while taking out even the most deadly of foes with his potent magic attacks.

“Be well,” you tell him, and he smiles back reassuringly. 

“You too, Kiran.”

He says nothing more as he rides off to join with Ryoma at the frontlines. You watch as the infantry soldiers march down the hill, disappearing from your view, one by one. Spotting teal hair by the long-haired High Prince of Hoshido, you sigh but say nothing, before clearing your mind. It’s certainly not the time now to think about anything other than sticking to the plan and survival.

“Are you ready?” Lyn asks, her voice above you, snapping you from your reverie. Pulling the reins on her mare, she slows her so that you can keep up.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Good. We need to move to different cover. I’ve already stationed the archers around the valley in key points. I think you’ll be safest near Corrin. You’ll have a clear view as well as him being able to help cover you.”

* * *

 

The battle is one of the bloodier ones you’ve seen. Notching arrows and launching them in the sky, even you find your mark and fell a few wyverns and their riders as the skirmish below in the valley continues. Your own army stands out, the brightly colored armors of the heroes against the stark black of the enemy, and you’re happy to see most of the colorful blurs are still moving as the battle progresses.

“Hey Corrin, I need more arrows!” You call after launching your last one. It misses a wyvern already grounded near Lilina. The mages make quick work of it and anyone else once they’re on the ground, then move on to the next target.

Receiving no reply, you call again and get nothing but a faint rustle in the bushes some ways away.

“Corrin? Lyn?”

Scanning the area, you look around you realize he’s not there, nor is Lyn. You’re not sure where either of them went, but there’s a trail of blood on the ground that sends a shiver up your spine. Out of arrows, you quickly return your bow to your back as you scan the field again to see if you can spot anyone nearby and your hand goes to the dagger at your side.

“Well if it isn’t the summoner,” a voice says in your ear. “All alone.”

Before you can whip around a large hand is wrapped around your throat, squeezing. You feel the hard edges of metal armor dig into your back and hold your breath, already knowing who the oily voice in your ear belongs to.

 _“Valter,”_ you hiss as you struggle, but his grip on you stays firm.

“So you do know who I am. _Excellent.”_

His grip on your throat tightens. Every muscle in your body tenses as he chuckles darkly, yanking down your hood and running gloved fingers through your hair roughly.

“What fine prey you’ll make.”

“Like hell I’ll be your anything,” you spit, trying to jerk away from his touch before letting out a hoarse scream he cuts off.

“Someone’s mouthy.”

What you can see of your team is too far away for you to run to them, Valter too close for you to do anything you know how to defend yourself with, aside from possibly kicking him which only has a slim chance of success. You can’t even tilt your head down and see what his leg armor looks like, much less try and headbutt him, aiming for his nose.

_Fuck._

But you do still have your dagger and your hands free, even if right now they are trying to pry his off your throat. You just have to wait for the right moment. Maybe if you goad him enough he’ll give you an opening. He hasn’t killed you yet and seems like he’s content to toy with you for the moment being.

Every moment he does is a moment you might be able to take advantage of or someone else might arrive, so you draw them out as best as you can.

“We’re going to win this fight,” you grit out. “I’ll give you one chance. Let me go and join us now and I’ll spare your life.”

“So _spirited,_ summoner.” He grips your throat even tighter. “You’re in no position to be making demands.”

He turns you both so you can watch the battle unfolding, his grip on your throat moving up to your chin so he can wrench your head in the direction of the fight. Michalis already looks like he’s out, though you aren’t sure from where you stand. There certainly less wyverns in the sky than when the battle started. Narcian might still be out there or just on the ground, you can’t really tell from the angle Valter has your head at and his armor is just as colorful as many of the other heroes, which is oddly in his favor currently.

“Doesn’t look like we’re losing to me,” you choke out in reply, summoning up as much bravado as possible. He’s close enough you smell blood and metal, the pungent stench of copper mixed with leather and musk. The ends of his hair tickle the side of your face and all you want to do is retch, bile already creeping up your throat.

“I fail to see your point. But maybe you’ll see mine.”

You unsheathe your dagger and try your best to find a place in the armor to jab it into but Valter catches your wrist easily, grinding the bones of it together in his iron grip and you drop it onto the ground. He kicks it further away, bracing you against him with the other hand holding his lance, the cool metal of it against your neck as you struggle against him. It hums menacingly, as though it has a life of its own.

Valter’s other hand rests on your chest, above your heart as your fingers scrabble to find something to dig into and he just laughs.

“What a cute little thing. Hmmm… should I let you run or keep you?”

Before you can reply, his wyvern gives a shrill cry and Valter whips you both around fast enough you get dizzy.

Ephraim is standing there, Siegmund in hand, poised and ready to fight. There’s blood on his armor, his cape torn in chunks where it looks like it was used against him. His hair is mussed and the usual grin on his face when he fights is absent, replaced with a fire in his eyes and a downright terrifying glare.

_“Let her go.”_

“Well if it isn’t the whelp.” Valter snorts, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. He swipes his thumb over your bottom lip as you clench your jaw hard enough to crack your teeth.

“Tell me—where’s your sister, boy? Have you replaced her so easily?”

Ephraim’s face doesn’t shift as he takes one step closer and then stops. There’s an edge to his voice you’ve only heard once before, as his lips curl into a dark grin.

“Guess I’ll have to kill you then.”

“How reckless,” the other man replies, clicking his tongue. “I could kill our little hostage here before you do anything.”

“But you won’t.”

Valter ducks his head so that his lips meet the shell of your ear, but he speaks loud enough he knows Ephraim will hear it too. “Tell you what, summoner. I’ll join your little army. But if I become bored, you and him will be the first to know. You both are _mine.”_

“Never. Just me right now, Moonstone.”

_“Ephraim—”_

“If you want a fight, you’ll get your last today,”  Ephraim hisses through clenched teeth, gripping Siegmund harder.

“Ah, headstrong as ever.” Valter laughs as he shoves you roughly towards Ephraim, who runs forward and catches you as you stumble. It's no small feat considering he still has Siegmund in his other hand, using it to steady the weight of you both. You taste copper in your mouth and realize you ended up face first in his armor, a piece of the metal catching your lip.

“What an entertaining pair you make.”

“Let me kill him, Kiran.”

Ephraim steps around you so that he’s shielding you, lance pointed once again at Valter. He doesn’t look back at you. “He’s not going to swear fealty.”

He laughs.

“I let her go, boy. I told you your fight isn’t with me… today, anyway,” he replies, whistling for his wyvern, who moves so he can get back on. “I have some things to take care of. I’ll find you later, _Kiran.”_

Your skin crawls as he says your name. The wyvern’s wings open as they are about to take off but you find your voice and glare daggers at him as you step from behind Ephraim, who still puts out an arm to stop you.

“Swear fealty now, Valter,” you spit, crimson on the dirt and copper in your mouth. “Or I will let him kill you next time.”

“Fine. I swear. We’ll do the whole official contract soon enough. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I don’t think anyone ever could,” Ephraim replies bitterly, as Valter just grins. He takes to the skies again, circling you both before flying away.

Once he’s out of range, Ephraim turns to you, the rage on his face melting into alarm. His blue eyes are wide as he steadies you by the shoulders, scans you for any injuries. There's nothing more than the bruises around your neck and your split lip he gently runs his gloved thumb over. Shaking his head, he crushes you against him in a tight hug.

“I should have never gone out there so far and left you without—”

His hand is in your hair and the other on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you begin to shake now that the adrenaline has subsided. The rest of his reply is muffled in your hair and you can feel his chin pressed on your head, his armor cutting into your skin, as you take in a shuddering breath. Your mouth is dry, your tongue like sandpaper and your throat aches with each swallow, each word you reply.

“Its okay,” you croak out hoarsely. 

“It’s _not_ okay, Kiran.” He sighs into your hair. “He could have killed you. He probably would have if you were anyone else.”

The thought sends a shiver down both your spines and his arms tighten around you.

“Think he planned on defecting,” you mumble into his neck. “Don’t remember seeing him.”

“You’re right. I saw Michalis and Narcian out there, but none of the other wyverns were him.”

You don't reply, just nod your head.

“Promise me—if you decide to have him around—” he tells you, struggling to find the right words. He lets go of you, even though you don’t let go of him. You're still clinging to him as your breath begins to even out.

“I’m not trying to bring that up again. I know you wanted me to back off, but—just...  _don’t leave your guard down when you’re alone, okay?_ ”

A sob makes its way out of your throat you try and cut off once you realize that tears are already running down your cheeks and you’re standing there in front of him, clutching to the tattered end of his cape, crying. You were wrong to underestimate his words about Valter, too headstrong and trying to prove you didn’t need him by your side when he was just trying to help.  

“I’m sorry. I was wrong last night," you sniffle as you wipe your face with your cloak. _"_ I was wrong. I’m sorry Ephraim I—”

“Hey, _shhhh._ Kiran, no its—that’s not important. Not right now, not ever." Ephraim tilts your head up, wiping away the rest of your tears with his thumbs. "I don’t—I’m terrible with words sometimes. It’s as much fault of mine as any you believe to be your own,” he adds as he folds you into a fierce hug again, this time not letting go until others arrive, clearly confused at your shaken state.

“We found the summoner!” You hear someone cry out and you begin panicking again, but step away from him as he quickly lets go of you, still giving you a concerned look.

It's Priscilla and Sigurd, quickly followed by Reinhardt and the rest of the cavalry.

“What in the seven hells happened,” Priscilla asks as she looks over you, looking none too great herself. The white parts of her outfit are dirty and torn in a few places, a matching pair to Sigurd, who looks like he went through hell itself and back and somehow lived to tell about it.

You shrug off your cloak and she inspects the bruises you no doubt have on your neck, gently lifting your chin to get the scope of them. You close your eyes as she waves her staff in front of you, over them. When you open them, she’s already handing you something in an opened flask to drink.

“Didn’t we put you up there to _keep_ you out of trouble?”

Your throat still aches even if the evidence is gone. Reinhardt looks like he wants to say something but says nothing as Ephraim saves you having to speak. You nod in assent, chewing on your lip silently as he tells them about what happened with Valter. He keeps you near his side, walking close and the occasional gentle hand on your back, guiding you as you walk in a daze.

“We completed all our objectives,” Ryoma says, falling in step with the two of you. “Risky, but a worthwhile plan. Michalis came of his own volition. Narcian will have to be summoned later. And Valter—”

You shiver again, turning to Ephraim, who’s looking ahead.

You notice there’s a rust colored stain on the collar of his tunic, and wonder if it's yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You think they’ll figure it out?” Sharena furrows her brow. “Watching these two be this dense is getting to be painful.”
> 
> “It might take a few more chapters,” Anna replies with a shrug, as she counts the coins she’s collected as bets thus far. Crossing names off of a roll of parchment, she turns to the other woman. “But you owe me…” her eyes scan the list towards the bottom. “Aha!—four coin for them not already figuring it out. Pay up, sweetheart.”
> 
> Sharena grumbles as she reaches into a pouch and hands over the coins.
> 
> “At least no one will ever question what you love.”


	11. Ghosts (Summoner x Lyon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that things have settled down, Kiran decides its time to meet Lyon and finds out they have more in common than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update like a rainbow in the sky ~ I'm not sure when I can next but you bet your ass its gonna be Valter again when I can >:D

You do try and search out the most elusive hero in the castle once you return from the mess that was swearing in Valter, Michalis, and Narcian to the Order of Heroes, which is quickly just becoming the Order at this rate. Lyon, on the other hand, still hasn’t been sworn and could technically massacre everyone in the castle if he chose to, since he’s not bound under the same rules the rest of you are yet.

You really have your doubts he’d actually do such a thing at this point though.

Upon no one answering the door of his room, as well as him being absent in the infirmary as well, you run down the list of things you remember Ephraim telling you about the man and decide to finally check out the library.

After a long walk around the castle, you find yourself in front of its doors. They creak open to reveal exactly who you were looking for, studiously examining a very heavy and very old book.

“Hello.”

“Prince Lyon,” you nod your head. You make no move to sit, instead, decide to lean on one of the library’s drab walls.

“Just Lyon, if you will, summoner.” His lilac eyes meet your own. "I’m prince of nothing in Askr.”

He smiles at you, despite the wry statement.

You’d hardly say he was the picture of health with his parchment-pale skin and skinny limbs, but compared to when you found him, it’s an improvement. There are countless dusty tomes stacked on the table he’s sitting at, along with an untouched plate of food and a partially filled teacup.

“What you are is recovering from injury,” you reply, change tact and pointing to his plate. “You really should eat that.”

He tilts his head and gives you an odd look. “I appreciate your concern, I simply forgot while studying about the magicks of Askr.”

Long fingers cradle one of the books gently, its near crumbling spine supported with care. You walk over to his side of the table and peer at the strange symbols on the page. Not even Reinhardt has managed to really crack the secrets of the older tomes in the library.

“You can read that?”

“With some difficulty,” Lyon replies, nodding his head. “High Askran is— Prince Alfonse says it hasn’t been used in hundreds of years, but I’m managing.”

“Ephraim was right about you having quite the way with books.”

“Yes, well... he was never much for them, so it’s no surprise he would say such a thing.” Lyon lets out a nervous laugh as he sets down the book, closing it gently. “Did he… say anything else?”

“Only good things.”

He doesn’t reply to that, just furrows his brow. You suppose now is as good a time as any to sit down in the chair across from him and you take a seat, as he looks at you.

“You know I don’t hold having to fight against you, right?”

“You should,” he replies bitterly. “It isn’t the first time. I seem to be an easy target for this sort of thing.”

“You should speak better about yourself, Lyon. What matters is you’re with us now.” You try to give him what you hope is the warmest and most sincere smile you can, darting your hands over the table to clasp one of his hands between yours. He gives you a startled look, eyes flitting from your face to your hands. Skittish. And his hands are cold, so cold.

"You have a chance to do good."

Moments pass before Lyon looks up and clears his throat.

“Is that what matters?" He asks, barely a whisper. "Is atonement so easy?”

It’s your own time to pause, as you consider your words and find that speaking from your heart will hopefully be the best course of action. “I can only speak of my own forgiveness, but you’ll probably find others willing to do the same. You don’t need to hide from everyone, you know.”

He looks contemplative for a moment, before covering your hands with his own.

“You did save me summoner, so I must heed your words. A high debt to repay, but I will do whatever you wish as many times over as I can. You lead, I’ll follow.”

“I— you know that’s not what I meant,” you reply, looking down and letting out a heavy sigh. “I made a mistake too. A recent one. I let someone think they were in my debt, because I was too selfish to tell them otherwise. It... felt nice being wanted for a change. Where I’m from, I wasn’t very often. That misunderstanding nearly got us both killed on separate occasions. I’d like to think I won’t make it again, but I might.” 

He gives you a curious look, as you swallow and continue.

“So please just—don’t say it like that. I appreciate your help, but don’t go needlessly into fights just for my sake, okay? Do it because you feel like its the right thing to do, nothing more or less.”

“Then we are perhaps a bit alike, summoner,” Lyon replies, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand before letting it go.

You frown.

“That’s a _terrible_ thing to have in common. Why couldn’t it just be something like hobbies or favorite foods?”

“Hobbies? I don’t think it works like that.”

He chuckles, pulling the plate of closer so that it's between the two of you on the table. “But since you mentioned food, will you eat with me? I doubt I’ll finish this myself and I am not to be trusted to eat if you ask my caregivers.”

“Fine, you. Better to watch you eat half than wonder if you’re starving, right?”

“Indeed,” he replies, nibbling on a piece of bread he’s split in half for you both.

* * *

 

The silence shared eating is amicable and you watch the tension leave his shoulders as you both eat quietly.

There’s an almost ethereal quality to him, one you haven't seen from many of the other occupants of the castle. He exists like he’s made of whispers and pale wisps of smoke, barely tangible. Even eating his movements are fluid and refined, befitting a prince having long since had manners and grace ingrained in him from a young age. Suddenly the somewhat reverent tone Ephraim would speak to you in about him seems justified. You’d be shocked if the mage won’t have his own share of admirers once he becomes less reclusive.

_If he does._

“I appreciate your concern, you know. It reminds me of the twins if I’m to be honest. They’d often dote on me when we were younger.”

“I get that a lot these days,” you mutter, as the man across from you arches an eyebrow at your reaction. “Especially because one of them is missing currently.”

“Ah. Well, to be compared to Eirika is certainly a compliment,” he says with a laugh. “She’s quite exceptional. Ephraim… I am less sure about that comparison. And by the look on your face—oh, _speak of the devil himself—_ ”

“Whaa~?”

You hear the library doors swing open none too gently and before you can turn around, you feel a large hand ruffle your hair. You peer up at a casually dressed and very sweaty Ephraim, who looks as though he’s just finished sparring or running a great distance, as he swipes clumps of teal hair from his face. He reaches out to do the same to Lyon, who shoots him a warning look.

“Okay, okay.” He throws his hands up in defeat, still grinning and standing by your chair.

Ever since Valter you seem to have mended things, the both of you admitting you were wrong and easily falling back into an amicable routine, choosing to ignore any further rumors. Rather than follow you, he seems to be keeping an eye on Valter. And Valter, in turn, seems to be enjoying his game of cat and mouse with the prince, leaving you blessedly alone. The two are often found sparring on the training grounds, usually until one of them has to go to the medic. And despite their constant injuries, it seems to somehow be the safest scenario.

Even if the new scars Ephraim shows you make you sometimes think otherwise. You notice a new one on his arm and trace the angry, pink skin with a fingernail. He grins at you, the promise of a story later.

“This is the last place I’d expect you to visit,” Lyon remarks dryly. “You’re in no state to touch these books.”

“Actually, I was looking for you. Either of you. I was going to introduce you to each other, since you still need to be sworn into the Order, Lyon. But I forgot after having to babysit the new resident psychopath.”

“Of course.”

"I'm worried about him meeting the old ones," you mutter. "I think he might get along  _too well_ with Tharja and Peri. Especially Peri."

You shiver as Lyon looks at you both, completely lost.

"Anyway," Ephraim shrugs affably, hand still resting on the back of your chair. “It looks as though my concern was unnecessary.”

“Quite. We were just about to continue eating dinner.”

“Together?”

“That’s generally what the word _we_ means, Ephraim. Two or more people.”

 _“Lyon_ —"

“It’s alright, he doesn’t mean anything by it. His humor is just strange,” Ephraim replies easily, giving you both a huge smirk. “A bit like yours, actually. Anyway, don’t let me interrupt.”

You open your mouth, but he’s already dashing out the doors before either of you can say a word in reply.

Turning back to the other man, you find Lyon covering his face with the palms of his hands, cheeks tinged red. You only barely stifle the laughter that tries to escape you at the mortified look on his face.

"Hey, wanna help me go kill him? It'll be another thing to bond over."

_"Yes, please."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, as kiran: baaaaaaabe ~ you get more merges! and a free owltome! IS answered our prayers, i'm gonna feed you so many units~  
> lyon: *looks at naglfar* _YEEEEEEET_  
>  me: YASSSSSSSS BOIIIIIIII
> 
> i retract my statement that IS are cowards. thank you for blessing me in the month of july and letting lyon get to +5 and a new tome, he deserves it.


	12. Grand Hero Battle: Valter, Pt. 2 (Summoner x Valter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna speaks to you about a pressing matter in the castle and Valter finally catches you alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is the plot of this fic anymore, amirite?
> 
> I tried very hard to stay focused this chapter, but life was throwing so much summer Innes in my face and I had to resist randomly adding my husband’s other boyfriend to the story, you have no idea. And then someone on discord had to say (and I quote) _"Innes is as smooth as a freshly lacquered table, I’d eat off those abs_ and I lost my goddamn rational mind. At 12:10 and 100 orbs later he came home on a yolo roll JUST LIKE EPHRAIM. I hate him so much, guys. Y’all princes _so_ expensive.

_Mmmmm yeah, a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of wine. Maybe a massage, yeah. Skilled hands working out the knots in my shoulders and back while I relax and sip wine_ — _no make that champagne, I haven’t had anything bubby in ages_ — _in a bathtub. Someone washing my hair for me, as I lie back and listen to—_

The ledger slamming down on the table in front of you snaps you out of your daydreams. You nearly drop the quill dangling precariously from your lax fingers, dribbling splotches of ink on the documents you were signing.

“We’re running out of funds,” Anna states.

You look up to see the redhead glaring at you. She points at the numbers scrawled in black ink, jabbing a finger into the book’s pages.

“I—” You hesitate for a moment, squinting at the columns, trying to decipher them. “Is Askr in debt?”

“Not Askr, _us._ Our army. We’re in debt to the crown. We’ve gone over budget with all of the people in the castle. Food, supplies, weapons. The upgrades. We’re barely paying the staff living wages.”

Well, that’s not good. You haven’t wanted to step on toes being in a land not your own, but you draw the line at the servants in the castle becoming slaves while you stay here. That just isn’t right, and everyone here has been so nice.

“You said the crown, right? Can’t Alfonse…” you trail off with a shrug, waving a hand in the air. You can barely even balance a checkbook, much less the treasury of a country. Jesus, these people, honestly...

“You really thought that was free money?”

“Well, yeah. Aren’t wars funded by the countries who have them?” 

Maybe you should have paid attention better in history.

Anna rolls her eyes before plopping down in the chair next you and pouring herself a glass of the mulled wine you’ve taken a liking to since coming here, knocking it back in one quick drink.

“Sometimes I forget that you—” she wipes her mouth with the back of a gloved hand before slamming the glass down and refilling it again. “Literally have no idea what you are doing and were just somehow blessed by the power of the Breidablik.”

“Caught me,” you reply. “I thought we were doing alright. No one brought this up last meeting.”

“We were! Until you got summoning crazy because Ephraim and Lyon begged you to try and get Eirika!” Anna waggles a finger in your face. “You aren’t fooling me with your favoritism, missy.”

“I—er,” you scratch the back of your neck. “I may have gone a tiny bit overboard.”

“You went crazy.”

_“He saved my life, Anna.”_

Okay, you made it rain with orbs. And still no Eirika, but you hadn’t summoned for a really, really long time and got kind of wrapped up in the rush from it like gambling. But people. People gambling.

Wait, no, that's not right.

“We’ve got to get rid of some of the people in the barracks here that are dead weight. We’re running out of room,” she huffs, before taking another shot of your alcohol.

“It’s a castle!” You reply incredulously, swiping back the bottle and drinking straight from it as Anna frowns at you. “How are we running out of room?” You haven’t even wandered a portion of the halls of the place, the situation can’t possibly be so dire that they are running out of rooms. People share, for Chrissakes. And even if they didn’t there’s still got to be more than enough room, right?

“You’ve summoned nearly 300 people since getting here.”

_Oh._

_Whoops._

“Oh. My bad.”

“I know you enjoy your little troupe of Ninos and Nowis—”

“I can’t help it! I have depression and they just bring a smile to my face,” you say, smiling as you think of the small hoard of blonde manaketes and green haired mages following you around. “Plus Reinhardt calls them his little green army. Isn’t that cute?”

Anna narrows her eyes.

“You need to send people home.”

“Can we maybe get some of the other heroes to, I dunno, go get jobs in the town or do stuff around here?”

“Kiran, be realistic. Can you really see half of the heroes here doing normal work? Most of them are nobility. Or fighters. Warlords.”

You try and imagine Ephraim gardening, sleeves rolled up as he’s squatting in the dirt and pulling up weeds to plant new flowers. Sigurd in an apron, helping cook dinner in the kitchens. You giggle when your mind flits to Michalis in a maid uniform, dusting the great hall with that same sour look on his face he always has.

Okay, maybe Anna has a point.

“Can we rent them out as bodyguards or something?”

“No,” she replies with an edge of finality, pointing back at the open ledger. “You need to send some of them home. They’ll probably be happy about it and I—we’ll start saving money. I even made a list for you.”

“Anna—”

“Kiran, I will make you share your room. And you won’t like who I pair you up with.”

There’s an evil gleam in her eyes.

“Okay, okay…” you finally sigh, holding out your hand. “Let me see the list.”

She hands you a hefty scroll, as she gets up from the table. You smooth it out and look at the list of people you’ll probably have to say goodbye to with a frown, even though half of the names on it are unrecognizable to you.

_Who the heck is Raigh? Is Stahl the brunette or the green haired one? Oh god, did I really summon four Henrys that day?_

You keep scrolling down the list in defeat until your eyes rest on a name you are very familiar with.

“Anna!” You yell down the hall at her retreating form. “You know I can’t make the Lilinas leave, the Hectors will kill me! Two large axes, two very strong men with large axes who love their—”

_Oh geez, that’s right you did summon like eight of her hoping for Eirika, as Ephraim and Lyon cheered you on and Hector looked like he was about to weep with joy._

“—eleven daughters!”

“Figure it out, Kiran!” She yells back at you, walking away.

* * *

 

By the time you figure out exactly who will be departing the castle, you’re well into the end of the bottle and a headache is beginning to creep up behind your eyelids.

Heaving a sigh, you roll back up the list and stash it in one of the pockets of your cloak before exiting the hall towards the mess. Your stomach rumbles, mulled wine the only thing sloshing around inside of it. If you’re lucky you might have time to go for a walk and enjoy the sunset after stopping by the kitchens to grab a bite to eat. Deep in thought, you walk down the halls, wondering if maybe the newest additions to the castle were, in fact, a terrible idea. You haven’t had this hard of a time getting people to integrate since summoning Henry and Tharja and it only concerns you more as you realize you’ll also have to get Camus, Arvis, and Xander one day. Thankfully, you have nobody that will mind you recruiting Camus, but the latter two have you worried about how Sigurd and Ryoma are going to fare being in the same vicinity as the men they fought against and lost people to in their own timelines.

Though seeming the most promising and level-headed, Michalis ended up being a  broody, standoffish and haughty prick once entering the castle, clearly still not over his pride being broken by surrendering. Any attempt you made to speak to him just ended up in being rebuffed so you’ve pretty much given up on him for now, hoping he might come around later like a feral cat. Narcian is hardly fairing better, his comments so over the top people have begun keeping a wide berth from him except a small group of admirers including Peri, who seem to be smitten for some odd reason.

And Valter is…

A shiver runs up your spine thinking about the hand wrapped around your throat, as your hand unconsciously comes to rub at your neck.

_...right in front of you, shit._

You nearly bump into his armored chest as you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. He gives you a menacing smile as he advances, leaning into your personal space.

“Kiran. Just the person I was looking for.”

“What do you want Valter?” You ask, rubbing your temples. You sigh before crossing your arms.

“I’m _bored.”_

It’s the same complaint you’ve heard from him several times since you banned him from sparring with Ephraim— _well, everyone after that—_ that turned into them dropping their lances and getting into a full-on fistfight complete with Ephraim getting his nose broken right before a battle one day. The healers could fix the damage, but not the blood loss. So he had to sit out that day, looking at you dejectedly as you left with Shiro instead and Valter fuming next to him because you still didn't take him along with you.

“Here’s an idea. Maybe you should take up hobbies other than causing physical injury to people? Tons of 'em out there. Learn to play cards. Get drunk. Read a self-help book. Hell, go hunting if you really want to kill something,” you add. “More food in the castle is actually a decent use of your bloodthirsty talents, go figure.”

“No."

"No?"

"Let me join your next battle,” he states, cutting off your ability to sneak around him with an arm out. He grabs your arm, letting go when you glare daggers at him. “Bigger prey. I hunger for battle and this war is far from over.”

“Absolutely not,” you quickly reply. “Out of the question.”

“I’ll bring you Sutr’s head on my lance.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but no. You’re on probation.”

“For?” He tilts his head, amused.

“Choking me, Valter!" You reply, trembling as you ball your hands into fists at your side. "I honestly could have gave a rat’s ass about what you did before you met me. I even defended you when Ephraim said to kill you, but you just had to go and fuck that up.”

“You’re weakhearted,” he sneers in your face. “A timid mouse. You need to have a backbone to lead an army, girl.”

“You say that like I’m the only one in charge here.”

“They defer to you.”

“And I defer to them too!” You reply angrily. “And if you get your head out of your ass I might defer to you one day, _General._ But it ain’t today.”

You hear the sound of footsteps as both you and Valter glare at each other. It’s Reinhardt who turns the corner, narrowing his eyes as he sees the uncomfortable lack of distance between the two of you. Lyon is to his left, an unreadable look on his normally placid face, but you can feel the crackle of something dangerous in the air as the two mages approach.

“Summoner,” Reinhardt says, bowing. Lyon doesn’t, but he gives you a small smile by way of greeting instead, pointedly ignoring Valter. “I was looking for you. I had questions regarding—”

“Tomes, right?” You reply overly cheerfully, ducking under Valter’s arm as he scowls at the three of you. “My man, Rein. What do you need?”

He purses his lips as he looks over your shoulder. “This is a conversation best perhaps suited for the library?”

“Summoner,” Valter growls. “Don’t think you can just—”

He reaches for you, but you step very deliberately on his foot, grinding down your heel quickly before moving to the space between Reinhardt and Lyon.

“I can and will,” you reply, taking both men by the arms and walking the opposite direction. “We’re done with our chat. Lets go.”

Apparently, it's enough for the man to slink off down the hall. You can hear his heavy footsteps retreating and you feel your heartbeat finally slow down as you stop them both so you can close your eyes and take in a giant breath of air.

“Are—are you okay?” Lyon asks once you’ve opened your eyes again. “Ephraim told me about your encounter with the Moonstone.”

 _Hand on your throat_ —

 _—choking_ —

_—the smell of blood—_

“Yeah, I’m fine!” You chirp, shaking your head and giving them your biggest grin. “Guys who think they’re that entitled just really piss me off.”

“Some men are not men, but animals,” Reinhardt adds coldly. “He’s as tame as the wyvern he keeps.”

Remembering Ephraim's suggestion, you vow to keep someone around you from now on until you can face off against Valter again without nearly having a panic attack.

“Honestly, I’d take the wyvern over him any day. At least I’d find peace quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Extended cut:**
> 
> Mumbling under your breath, you add _“Weakhearted my ass, you fugly ass wannabe-Tommy Wiseau lookin’ bitch.”_
> 
> The two men go back to looking down at you worriedly.
> 
> “Kiran… was that a hex from your land?” Lyon asks, concern written on his face. You pat his arm, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. "I thought you said you couldn't do magic?"
> 
> “Oh, you precious thing. Can I keep you?”
> 
> The Gradoan prince coughs, looking away flustered. You can still see the light blush dusting his cheeks as he stares straight ahead and Reinhardt laughs.
> 
>    
> (also semi-true story, I rolled pretty hard on the last Eirika banner and ended up with a shitton of red that wasn't even good for fodder before finally breaking down and sending a bunch of units home and 5* one of mine with good IVs. Ephraim isn't that lucky in this story. YOU DONT GET YOUR SISTER YET BOI.
> 
> Also, I don't hate Valter actually! I just really wanted Kiran to insult him because tumblr has made me never unsee Tommy Wiseau!Valter. You're welcome.)


	13. Springtime Sadness (Hares at the Fair, Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran is still recovering from wild orb spending and spring is in the air in Askr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember this event? 
> 
> I sure don't because I was too busy being broke trying to roll for Legendary Ephraim and not getting him the first time!  
> ;______________________________;

Spring is in the air, flowers in all manner of colors are in full bloom and the castle bustling with activity, even with fewer people in it than there used to be.

You’ve been busy, plotting strategies for the remaining Grand Hero Battles, studiously ignoring the fact you'll have to fight Surtr again soon and desperately trying to collect orbs after the trying to summon Eirika fiasco. Despite chastising you earlier, Anna later admitted that the castle wasn’t doing exactly as bad as she said, though sending home people did help immensely towards the financial strain on the castle. As long as the Askr Spring Solstice festivities don't get too out of hand, you guys shouldn’t have issues bouncing back from the current dwindling funds of the Order.

All of this was great news, except for to you.

Because it also meant no summoning spring heroes... _another year in a row._

You sigh, sipping your coffee and then counting and recounting your orbs just to make sure, just in case there is a way and promising to yourself you'll send home anyone that isn't exactly who you are thinking of. Finding yourself only in the double digits, all thoughts of Chrom and Xander in their delightful vests and bunny hats begin to look further and further away from your grasp.

What a pity.

“Kiran…”

“I know, I know. Counting them isn’t going to make them multiply,” you reply, stuffing the paltry amount back into your near empty pouch. You look up to see Ephraim giving you a concerned look, before taking a seat next to you.

“I was going to say we could go find more.”

Bless this boy for being so proactive, even after you sent your main team scouring for more orbs only days ago.

That little venture led the five of you into a new, twisting dungeon with more levels than you could keep track of. You honestly thought you had gotten lost and were never going to make it out alive and starve in a cave to death. You started worrying someone might eventually go Donner Party on you, until Lyn alerted you all to the hot springs finally at the end that miraculously also had the exit next to it as well.

Considering how much you’d been wanting a proper bath, it took zero convincing for you to strip down and immediately jump in the hot spring and more than a little convincing to get you out. You tried to wheedle them into just a little bit more time, but at Lyn's request to go home, Hector ended up hauling you out in only your sopping wet smallclothes, which was more than embarrassing enough to make you shut up and wrap your cloak around yourself dejectedly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Of course. Nothing like a good fight _—”_ Ephraim begins.

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, as Anna plunks down right in the space between the two of you. Alfonse and Sharena are in tow behind her, one grinning while the other looks slightly frazzled.

“Oi, Prince Charming,” she cuts in. “We need the summoner today for important business.”

“Prince _Charming?”_

“Don’t ask,” you reply to the baffled look on Ephraim’s face. “What _‘important business’_? I thought we were just taking it easy today and getting ready for the festival.”

“Exactly!” Sharena replies, clapping her hands delightedly. “You’re going to be helping us get stuff ready this year!”

“Me?” You sputter out your sip of coffee, wiping your mouth with your sleeve so nothing dribbles down your chin. “I’m probably better off going out with the boys and Lyn to collect orbs.”

“Nah, just send them out alone,” Anna tells you with a wave of her hand, before turning to Ephraim. “You can handle a few battles alone, right?”

“Of course. Leave it to me.”

“See, they can totally handle a few battles without you. Let them spread their wings a little bit, mother hen.”

“I’m not a mother hen!” You reply as everyone laughs, even Ephraim. You give him silent pleading eyes, but he just gives you a shrug and ruffles your hair before getting up and leaving the table. Your eyes follow him as he exits the room, cape billowing behind him, as you sigh again at your only out from these shenanigans leaving the room.

“Man, you’ve got it _—”_ Anna begins, but Sharena sits down in the vacated space and elbows her in the side hard.

“Not now,” she chastises. “Kiran? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… this is the second year,” you reply feeling like a petulant child not getting their favorite toy as you go back to sipping your coffee dejectedly. You’re more disappointed you completely forgot about the extra special festive heroes summons this time of the year than you are about anything else. Being nearly out of orbs was your fault, no one else's, because ultimately at the end of the day you’re the only one who can truly spend them.

“Just once I’d like to see Xander with bunny ears in person!” You finally say, slamming your fist on the table as the whole room goes silent and you trail off, mortified everyone heard your outburst.

“It’d be good for my morale.”

“You really wanted to summon heroes in silly outfits that bad, huh?” Anna asks as you’re thinking of scandalous thigh-high boots, and heat rises to your cheeks.

“Well, I’ll take _that_ as a yes.”

Burying your head in your hands, you realize your real reasons for wanting to summon are as ridiculous as they are telling you. You might actually be the worst leader in the history of ever.

“It’s _—_ they’re not _that_ interesting,” Alfonse reassures you gently, patting you awkwardly on the back. “And they’ll always be back next year.”

“I mean some of their weapons are pretty cool,” Anna counters and Alfonse rolls his eyes at her.

“Not helping, Anna.”

Anna and Alfonse continue arguing over the merits of the special hero weapons, as Sharena has a thoughtful look on her face. “We could still _—”_   she trails off quietly as your eyes dart between the three of them perplexed and you go back to your coffee and tuning them out, visions of floppy bunny ear hats and tight white pants dancing in your head again.

“Kiran, Anna, you guys go set up whatever you were going to do today. Something just came up Alfonse and I need to do,” Sharena suddenly says, getting up and pulling Alfonse by the arm, who now has a pained look on his face.

“Wait a minute.”

“C’mon, brother.”

“No, Sharena,” he replies firmly, trying to tug his arm out of her iron-grip. “I already know where your mind is going and the answer is _—”_

_“Oh like hell you’re getting out of it this year!”_

“Do what?” You ask, curiosity now piqued.

“It’s a surprise!” She replies, dragging him away as they continue bickering between them down the hall. “Do it for the Kiran then!”

Well, then.

You look at Anna, who’s just shaking her head.

“Some example those two are. You ready to get to work then, champ?”

 

* * *

 

Setting up for the festival ends up being pretty fun.

You mostly end up painting eggs once Anna found out you were really good at it, leaving her to coordinate other heroes to put up decorations and bake festive treats, including carrot cakes complete with little carrots piped in icing on top of them. Anna sets a pair of bunny ears on your head, making sure to not disturb the adorable white and yellow flower crown Nino made just for you already resting there.

“If I have to wear these dumb things,” she grumbles. “You have to also.”

“Okay,” you reply easily, painting another egg with gold paint and adding it to the pile waiting to be dipped in different colored dyes by Cordelia and Priscilla. Down the table Faye and Nino are still making crowns, now trying to foist one on Anna who keeps turning it down.

“You’re not a half bad artist, you know?”

“Thanks.”

“Was that what you did in your world?” She asks, watching you paint another egg curiously.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Not for money, anyway. More like for fun.”

“That’s fair. If it’s not going to make you money, why do it often, am I right?”

“Uhhhh, suuuuure...” you trail off. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you so excited for this festival anyway?” You ask the redhead, narrowing your eyes. It's the one thing that has been bugging you all day, other than how your team is doing out there without you. Anna being complacent _—no, complicit—_ in helping out with everything for the festival has been, frankly, weirding you the hell out.

“Funny you should ask that! We’re going to be selling these at the festival!”

Well, at least that explains everything.

“You _—_ I thought these were for _—_ ” you look down the table at Nino, still diligently working on weaving flowers together and the stack of crowns between her and Faye. The pile of eggs that have already been painted and dyed. The plates of cakes lining the kitchen countertops.

“Brilliant, right?” Anna says, clapping her hands. “Eggs from the chickens and flowers from the gardens marked up because they're ‘artisan.’ People love that nonsense!”

“You’ve stooped to child labor. You’re a monster,” you reply, pointing a thumb in Nino’s direction, who waves happily at you even though she's out of earshot.

“I’m not the one taking her out into life-threatening situations, Kiran. You're one to talk.”

Okay, so maybe she has you on _that_ technicality. 

You wave back at Nino, feeling horrible about yourself now too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **me, as Kiran:** *pulls on spring Xander's cheeks* _huuuu cuuuuuteeeee~_  
>  **Xander:** Unhand me, woman. Why am I here? I'm not in the story yet.  
>  **me:** But... *pulls gently on his bunny ears* Real????  
>  **Xander:** You don't even have me as a unit!  
>  **me:** I KNOW YOU EXIST AND THAT'S ENOUGH  
>  **Xander:** By the goddess, someone save me from this madwoman.
> 
> Bls, I'm calling everyone out. He might be a terrible unit, but Spring Xander is a cutie. Look at that coy smile on his normally stern face! His lil' fluffy bun-bun cottontail! Tell me to my face you don't find him cute at least! XOXO <3


	14. Springtime Sadness (Hares at the Fair, Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The festival continues and Kiran becomes drawn closer towards one hero in particular than she thought she'd be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really back from the dead, sorry. Please enjoy me continuing to bait romance as long as I can, hahaha //shot.

It’s the big day of the festival and the castle is eerily quiet with a majority of the occupants out in the town instead to celebrate. Anna already left with a large group of heroes to set up her table near where the parade will be, and Alfonse and Sharena seem to still be missing working on whatever mysterious project she roped him into the previous night, much to his chagrin.

Your team still hasn’t returned back, so you’ve settled for pacing your way through the halls hoping maybe to find Reinhardt or Lyon to convince to leave the castle and go to the festival with you since you’ve been hanging out with the two of them a lot lately. While Reinhardt certainly found his niche coordinating the mages of the castle with you and Anna, you’re still sort of worried about Lyon, especially with the fact he never leaves his room and the only two people he’s gotten close to are often out of the castle on missions for you.

Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself turning a corner and nearly running into a very insulted looking Leo, balancing a stack of books in his arms.

“Summoner,” the blonde says stiffly, scowling as one book nearly falls and you pluck it off the top.

“Hey Leo. Going to the festival?”

Not exactly the mage you are looking for, but you’ve been meaning to talk to him and see if he’s doing alright. Sure he might have a prickly demeanor towards you ever time you find yourself conversing with him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t just as deserving as anyone else in the castle to your time, especially considering his unique situation.  

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Not a fan?” You ask, as he tries to walk away. “Hey!”

“I find such festivities… distasteful.”

You give him a mischievous grin. “Did your siblings try to dress you up too?”

“No!” He says a little too quickly, a blush quickly spreading across his cheeks. “Now if you’ll give me back that book I’ll be on my way to the library.”

“Okay okay, calm down,” you reply, throwing up your hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll walk with you.”

“I don’t need—”

_“Didn’t ask, Leo.”_

“Fine,” he replies with an exasperated sigh, before clearing his throat. “I mean— thank you, summoner.”

“Wow, a thank you even today. Is this suddenly because of the extra tomatoes that somehow made their way into the kitchen?”

He narrows his eyes. “That was _you_?”

“Camilla might have mentioned something to me. I’m sorry I haven’t made as much of an effort trying to help you adjust to the castle.”

“You’re not... mad at me for what I said at the last meeting?”

“About _‘the piss-poor management of funds and it all going to weapons’_ I think was your wording?” You laugh and nudge his shoulder. The other books in his arms nearly topple over as you give him a smile. “Nah, I was a jerk. I’m trying to be more balanced now.”

He hums in reply, letting you have the burden of continuing conversation.

“But this…. this is more about knowing Xander is out there, isn’t it?”

After a tense moment where he says nothing, you turn to him. It hasn’t been made common knowledge but one of the other things on the agenda you’ve been speaking with people in the war room about is getting Xander away from Veronica, even if it means him going back to Nohr in the process.

“Don’t worry, we are still working on a way to get him back even if you don't hear us talking about it.”

“I never said—”

“You don’t have to. I saw the look on your face when we broke the news when Camilla came back,” you reply. “I can’t even imagine what either of you are going through knowing he’s working with Embla against us, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”

You continue walking down the halls and after making a bit of awkward small talk on the rest of the way to the library, you excuse yourself after helping him set down all the books neatly on a table. As the summoner and a very important guest in Askr, you probably should make an appearance at the festival at some point in the day. If anything, just to get your mind off of the worries plaguing it, as you count down the hours.

“I…” Leo trails off as you turn around in the doorway.  “Thank you. You’re not all that bad, summoner.”

“High praise coming from you.”

* * *

 

Leaving the library, you walk aimlessly thorugh the many corridors of the castle. You're still trying to get a feel of the layout, depsite being in it for months now. Something about the maze of halls still makes your sense of navigation go completely out the window. You’re almost at what you think might be the mess when a very strange sight becomes clear. Squinting your eyes, you blink before realizing you aren’t hallucinating the sight in front of you of the two Askrian siblings in their festival costumes.

The outfits are elaborate, clearly made ahead of time and with care. The white and gold  of Askr worked into an elaborate design on the front, sides and cuffs of their outfits along with the easter theme of pastels and bunny ears. A sheer fabric tops off the outfits, Alfonse’s cape matching the sleeves on Sharena’s dress as they hold matching eggs with the Askrian emblem on them.

Jaw hanging open in shock, you approach them as Alphonse blushes and Sharena smiles.

“Kiran! We were just going to go look for you!” Sharena says excitedly, bouncing on her toes. She twirls around, ears and coattails in the air as she does a spin for you then curtseys. "What do you think?"

Alfonse looks far less excited, eyes downcast as he approaches and a blush suffusing his cheeks. “I feel like I’m in ornate sleepwear,” he mutters, leaning on the accompanying tall spoon. “I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”

“You guys did this for me?” You ask, eyes wide as they both nod their heads. “Just because I couldn’t summon anyone this year?”

“You’ve been working so hard, Kiran,” Sharena replies. “We just wanted to do something nice for you too.”

“Wow guys, I’m _—_ speechless, honestly.”

“Doesn’t Alfonse look cute?” She pulls on one of his ears gently and Alfonse blushes harder, turning at least the shade of pink of his sister’s outfit, possibly darker.

“I don’t want to be cute! I’m a prince!”

“Hey, cute isn’t bad,” you reply, turning to him and patting his arm. “It’s a nice look. And if anyone makes fun of you, well.... that spoon looks wicked dangerous as a weapon.”

The three of you dissolve into laughter, as you make your way out of the castle to the festival with the pair. They continue chattering about the festivities and vendors you’ll be able to visit for trinkets and treats and if they'll be able to get Anna away from her booth to give the people working it a probably much-needed break to go have fun.

You studiously try not to notice Sharena’s attention to detail going so far as to her adding a pompom tail to their costumes, as you trail behind the royal siblings.

* * *

 

It’s well into the evening when you come back, the festivities mostly over except for the people still drinking. You’ve made your way to the common room with a book on strategy and a glass of wine, trying not to be worried about the fact your most trusted heroes still haven’t come back to the castle yet. You realize you’ve read the same line for the last half an hour, thoughts wandering to anything other than the book in front of you. Your eyes threaten to slip shut as a large sack of orbs unexpectedly plunks down in front of you, nearly scaring you out of your skin.

“Surprise,” says a familiar voice as you stare up and see a mane of brown hair, red and white filling your vision.

_“Ryoma, how—”_

You turn around, still shocked at the amount of orbs on the table.

“A secret,” he says, smiling mysteriously. “But you should be good now, yes?”

“I, uh, yeah. Geez, wow.” You scratch the back of your neck as you stare back at the orbs and then your team. “You guys missed the festival.”

He makes a noncommittal noise, shrugging as you look back at the others who also shake their heads. Sure, they’re all looking a bit bedraggled, but you’ve seen them at far worse.

“We don’t mind,” he says, crossing his arms but smiling as Hector interjects in the background about fighting being a better way to celebrate and Lyn rolls her eyes.

“He did well leading us today, you know,” the Hoshidan prince adds and you smile as you watch Hector and Ephraim fistbump in the background after agreeing on something, Lyn having given up entirely on their antics to close her eyes and a blank look settle over her face. 

“Good, I’m glad.”

“We’re going to visit with a few of the people still up if you would like to join us,” he offers, which probably means Shiro and Eliwood and maybe a few others. Thinking about the last time you attended an event with Hector drinking, you shake your head, already too tired to deal with even the most basic of social activities.

“I went out earlier with Sharena and Alfonse so I think I’m done for the day.”  Your reply comes out as a yawn while you raise your arms and stretch, your back popping in a few places. Upending the wine bottle on the desk, nothing comes out and you sigh. “Yep, I'm done. But thanks guys, raincheck?”

“Sure,” Ryoma replies, as your team begins filing out of the room, the sound of clinking armor as Hector shuffles out.

“I’ll meet up with you guys in a little,” Ephraim tells them, not moving from where he’s standing. Ryoma clasps him on the shoulder and nods once, before going the same direction as the other two who are already making their way down the hall. Turning to you he gives you a tired smile of his own. “I’ll walk you to your room then since…”

“Valter?”

“Yeah, never know when that creep’ll show up.”

“He’s been pretty quiet since making friends of his own, thankfully,” you reply, packing up your supplies quickly and securing the pouch of orbs to your belt as you see Ephraim's eyes drawn towards Breidablik before its hidden underneath your cloak again.

”Actually, is that a  good thing?”

“Nothing is good involving him.”

Normally you’d give someone the benefit of the doubt but Valter’s hardly made progress since arriving in Askr. If anything his appearance in the ranks has only caused more outbursts and minor disagreements between you and your more trusted allies, as thought causing trouble seemed to be a pastime for him being benched and stuck at the castle.

“What’s the deal with him anyway?” You ask, closing the door to the study and turning down the corridor as Ephraim easily matches your stride and sighs. You wave to Effie who passes you in the hall, heavy footsteps and powder pink armor as she sways, making her way towards the barracks with a woozy look on her face, clearly done celebrating for the night.

“The man who trained me, Dussel, he says the cursed lance the moonstone wields was stolen from him and it corrupted him to his very soul. Not that he was a great person to begin with.”

You snort.

“Tragic backstory not so tragic then?”

“No, he was already a violent man. Lyon says his father dismissed him from his army and he doesn’t remember how Valter ended back up in Grado. I remember... differently.”

“Fomortiis?”

Ephraim nods his head. “Lyon told you then.”

“Some. Pretty heavy stuff. I can’t even imagine what he’s gone through, what he’s still going through”

Your companion frowns, stopping in the hall for a moment before shaking his head and continuing. “He still worries me. He’s not the same as he was, bits of the demon king seem to still be there.”

“Going into battle shouting _‘I am the Demon King’_ wasn’t a huge tip-off?” 

“Among other things,” he mutters, but neither of you continue, the well-being of Lyon,a sore subject even for the two of you to talk to each other about. Ephraim's almost pathological desire to protect his childhood friend from everyone in the castle often became a cause for you to butt heads over, especially considering you are of the opinion that Lyon needs to make friends to continue his rehabilitation. Seeing he might have found some with the other mages in the castle and Reinhardt having nothing ill to say about him, you probably aren’t as worried about him as you were initially and certainly not as much as Ephraim is.

“Ryoma said you did well leading them today.”

“I’m surprised he let me.”

“Y'know, I think letting Shiro have some rope has improved his views.”

“Am I really that much like him?” He asks and you wonder if he’s still somewhat offended the Hoshidan heir tends to be the one to replace him on the team if necessary.

“If you mean great with a lance and handsome and very brave and—” you begin, counting on your fingers. Your companion puffs up his chest and you roll your eyes at how easy complimenting him made him change tact.

“—and _reckless, foolish at times, as well as_ —”

You start feeling your cheeks heat up as a knowing look slowly makes its way across his face.

“Wait, you think I’m handsome?”

“Of course _that’s_ the part you want elaboration on,” you reply dryly and begin walking faster but he stops you in your tracks with a hand on your shoulder. It’s comforting in its weight, as he turns you so you’re both staring at each other awkwardly in the deserted hall near your door.

“Kiran,” Ephraim says quietly. The look on his face is much more serious now, the hand not on your shoulder reaching up to push back your hood and graze your cheek. You cover it with your own and try to maintain eye contact as your gaze darts from his eyes, the light dusting of freckles on his slightly crooked nose, and his lips.

 _Is he going to?_ You think to yourself, the wine your drank earlier is still running through your system, making you feel lightheaded and fearless about crossing the space between the two of you as you lick your lips. Maybe everything everyone had been telling you for the last few weeks wasn’t just jokes to make you feel uncomfortable and maybe there really was a chance that your closest friend in Askr may feel the same burgeoning feelings you did for him as well. 

“I—” he begins as you lean in, transfixed. You feel his thumb rub over your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering shut as you melt into the touch. “Tell me if—”

A very loud crash resounds down the hall, breaking the moment as his hand moves and you both nearly collide into each other in surprise instead. Snapped out of your daze, you whip around fast enough to spot a glimpse of long ears and a fluffy tail out of the corner of your eye before they scurry away out of sight.

“Did I just see…?”

Ephraim trails off, now behind you. His voice is clearly tinged with confusion as you collapse against him into a fit of giggles, thinking about Sharena and Alfonse earlier in the day again. Clutching at the cowl of his cape, you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes with your hand as you turn back around. The quiet moment between the two of you earlier now completely forgotten, as you try and will yourself to stop laughing because of everyone in this castle and how the crazy holidays seem to only escalate in their ludicrousness despite the fact you are still very much a nation at war.

Schooling your face into the closest to a serious look you can manage you only manage a few words before erupting into giggles again.

“I have the _best_ thing to tell you that you missed out on, _oh my god.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i arrive at the zenith.  
>  _orbs: collected_  
>  _dick: hard_  
>  _breidablik: out_  
>  blue orbs are forcibly removed from my summons by intsys.
> 
> i keep living the dream that i'll +10 either ephraim one day but he consistently needs like 200 orbs to come home uwu;;; i'm ready to yeet this game off my phone guys.

**Author's Note:**

> yo hit me up abt feh builds or teams or chatting abt fire emblem in general @ [otomesruinedmylife](http://otomesruinedmylife.tumblr.com)! i've played sacred stones and am playing birthright. i'm always on feh and my summoner ID is: 0836101998 if you want help from my lovely husband Ephraim :)


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